


His Little Lotte

by livvysunshine



Series: His Little Lotte [1]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: BDSM, College AU, DDLG, F/M, Professor/Student Relationship, Smut, age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvysunshine/pseuds/livvysunshine
Summary: Ever since Freshman year, Christine Daae has been intrigued by the biology professor Erik Destler. When she takes another one of his classes as a senior, he takes notice to her more and invites her into his life.DD/lg relationship between Christine and ErikUpdates on Tuesdays (bi-weekly)
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Series: His Little Lotte [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992829
Comments: 117
Kudos: 152





	1. The Hint

Christine Daae prided herself on being early for lectures. So it was no surprise that she was alone in the lecture hall. Oftentimes, she was the first in the classroom, setting up her area, and the last out, wanting to make sure she didn’t forget anything behind. She’d already pulled out her notebook and written the date in the top corner and then the class.

_ Anatomy and Physiology _

She had music playing softly from her earbuds, the right one securely in her ear, the left dangling. The clock ticking at the back of the classroom wasn’t in time with the beat of the music. A few miraculous times did it sync up, giving her three seconds of satisfaction where the world and her music were one.

The handwriting on the board was nice and neat, and said simply:  _ Anatomy and Physiology. Dr. Erik Destler. _

The name was familiar to Christine and to nearly any student at the university. Dr. Destler taught freshmen biology, a requirement for most majors, including Christine’s Childhood Education. He was one professor most people whispered about. Tall, dark hair and these extremely hazel eyes that looked gold if the light hit them right. Christine herself had never seen these eyes people claimed. Maybe it was her dedication to notes that stopped her from staring at his face too much.

Christine sipped her coffee from her thermos as she heard heels clicking down the lecture hall stairs. Turning her head, she saw Dr. Destler moving down to, as he called it, his stage. He had a mug in one hand and papers in the others. He must have gone to make coffee in his office, she assumed. 

Hazelnut creamer, sugar, and a touch of coffee splashed across Christine’s tongue. Caffeine was necessary, but she still despised the taste of black coffee. Cappuccinos were her favorite, though on a day to day she wasn’t really at the skill level to make her own. So a travel mug of hazelnut coffee was her go to for these early classes.

“Good morning, Miss Daae,” he said. Christine’s heart stopped for a second.

“Good morning, Dr. Destler,” she returned.

He glanced up from his papers and chuckled. “Are you shocked I remembered you? Or has your coffee not kicked in yet?” he teased.

Christine let herself giggle a little. “I didn’t know you knew my name. There were two hundred of us in my Biology class so I’m rather shocked.” 

The professor nodded and moved to set up his lectern. “I always memorize the names and faces of anyone who can pass my final with an A.”

Christine didn’t want to tell him that his final had been extremely easy and that she knew it had to be. Core classes for the university were always easy. Biology, Psychology, English Composition. 

Instead of saying anything to embarrass herself, she shrugged and turned her gaze down to her phone. The song had changed to another piece. One she remembered her father playing once. Luckily, a few other students came in, sparing Christine from an awkward silence with her professor.

At exactly 8:30, Dr. Destler placed himself in front of the class.

“Good morning,” he said. “I am Doctor Erik Destler. I’m sure I had a few of you in my biology basics class as freshmen. Though some of you may have had Professor Rawlings.” A few people chuckled. It was a joke apparently, that if you took Professor Rawlings’ biology class, you wouldn’t learn anything other than how disorganized and squirrel brained some professors could be. 

“However, this is Anatomy and Physiology. We are going to study the human body in detail. We had eleven systems to go through, so I suggest we begin. Before we do, if any of you have issues with acquiring the textbook, please come to me after class, or you may email me. No one needs to struggle to get supplies in my class.” He moved, collecting a thick stack of papers and beginning to hand them to the front row.

“This is your syllabus, take one, pass it. You’re college students, you know how this works. While you do this, lets begin a quick review of the building blocks of life. Cells.” 

Christine looked up as a stack of papers was handed to her and for the second time that morning, Dr. Destler made her heart stop for a second.

His eyes did look gold in certain light… 

  
  


The thing about Dr. Erik Destler was that every girl that took his class, and quite a few of the men as well, had at least a small attraction to him. Whether his voice, his eyes, his hair, his height, or the way he dressed, something about him was appealing to you.

For Christine, it was everything.

As a freshman, she’d watched him walk back and forth in her periphery as she wrote her notes, but sometimes she’d glance up and just watch him. 

Confident and sexy. Her favorite quirk about him was his smile. The left corner of his mouth would quirk up more than the right. It was beyond sexy to the young 18 year old. And now, as a senior about to go on for her masters, she was shocked that it still had any affect on her.

It had been two weeks, a total of four lectures, since that first day. Her notebook was already full of notes and her textbook full of post-its. She sat in her apartment, trying to focus. But his eyes. His eyes continued their hold on her mind.

Christine sighed and stood from her desk to go and grab a bottle of water from the kitchen. It was Sunday night. Tomorrow morning was her first test in Anatomy and Physiology. She felt she had a good grasp on what they had learned so far, but she always got nervous before tests. It didn’t help that anything about this class simply made her think of Dr. Destler. 

Once the bottle was empty, she stood around her kitchen and sighed. She needed food and had no energy to actually cook. Within a minute she had grabbed her purse and put on some easy slip on shoes, locking her apartment door behind her.

There was a tiny cafe down a few blocks, and she knew they had a really good soup and salad. Her plan was to get it to go and eat while she studied. 

Christine’s phone began to ring as she walked. A cursory glance gave her all the info she needed.

“Hello?” she said.

“Some people are absolute heathens!”

“Good evening to you too, Meg. What is it now?”

“Someone hit my car! And most people who hit your car when you’re not there leave a nice note-”

“Yes, I know. I don’t drive but I understand some of the things to do during accidents,” Christine said, interrupting her friend. Meg sighed on the other end of the phone.

“Well no one left a note! And now I need to go and pay to fix this out of pocket! It’s total bullshit!” 

Christine rolled her eyes and stopped at an intersection. “That does suck, Meggy.”

Meg let out a raspberry and then sighed. “What are you doing right now?”

“I’m walking to Kismet to get something to eat. I’ve been trying to study all day for a test tomorrow and I’ve forgotten basic things like hydration and food.”

“Christine Daae forgetting to have food or water? The end must be coming!”

Christine laughed. “No. This one class is just freaking me out for some reason.” Christine watched the red hand turn to a green man, and began walking across the road.

“What about this class freaks you out?” Meg asked. 

Did she tell Meg about the fact she had a crush on Dr. Destler? Or did she lie? Christine didn’t exactly like lying, but it seemed easier than explaining why she found the older man attractive. Besides, she didn’t harbor any ideas that there would ever be anything between them. He was older, no doubt had a wife or fiance or girlfriend. And he certainly didn’t want someone as inexperienced in life and love as her.

“Lotte?”

It was the old nickname that made Christine realize she’d been a little too quiet.

“Hi, sorry. Just… it’s A and P, you know? There’s so many things to memorize and know and apply. One letter out of place could change the entire location of something,” Christine said, finding the lie easy to speak. It was true. A&P was hard so far. She’d been doing well on the weekly quizzes, but he had warned her about her spelling on both of them so far, so she was scared points would be taken off on the test. 

Meg hummed understandingly, though Chrisitne knew she didn’t want to hear the particulars about the human body or Christine’s study habits. Meg was majoring in dance, and while Christine and Meg had met in ballet and Christine had shown promise to be a professional, she had fallen in love with the idea of being a teacher.

“Hey, I’ll text you tomorrow? I’m about to walk into the cafe.”

“If you don’t text me I’ll assume you were murdered,” Meg chimed in a sing-song voice. Christine winced, remembering an incident where her phone had died and Meg had nearly called the police. 

“I know. I’ll text you. Goodbye, Meggy.”

“Bye, Lotte.” 

Christine carefully tucked her phone into the pocket in her leggings. In her opinion, all legging and yoga pants deserved pockets. She’d put on the black leggings, switching from her flannel pajama pants to them. Paired with a pink tank top and a cream colored cardigan, she felt rather cute for how casual she looked.

The cafe was small, only a half dozen tables to sit at, but most people went in, grabbed their coffee or food, and left. She often found herself sitting at one of the bistro tables, sipping her coffee as she read a romance novel or revisited lecture notes. Not tonight though.

The barista smiled warmly. “Hi, Christine! What can I get you today?” she asked. The girl’s name tag said Yaz in big and fun handwriting that spoke of someone who was artistic. Who played ukulele and could pull off different piercings and tattoos. Yasmine was one of Christine’s favorite baristas. Petite, rich mocha colored skin, and hair she’d dyed pink. 

“Hi, Yaz. Um…” Christine let her eyes flit up to the menu board. “Can I have your cobb salad with honey mustard dressing and a cup of the broccoli cheddar soup?”

“Hazelnut latte?” Yaz suggested.

“I shouldn’t… but yeah if you don’t mind,” Christine said and smiled. 

Yaz nodded with a smile, typing in the order before saying the total out loud. Christine swiped her card quickly. 

She stepped aside to wait for her food, pulling out her phone to scroll through a few instagram pictures. 

“Must be Kismet.” The familiar voice made Christine jump. Not because of a fear of the person or the words, but that she’d never heard Erik Destler’s voice outside of a lecture.

Dr. Destler was sitting at a table, laptop closed in front of him and an empty coffee cup on the other end of the table. Christine didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed him sitting there before.

“Huh?” she found herself saying.

“Kismet. It means fate,” he explained. 

Christine nodded, looking away. “Yeah… um…”

“Are you ready for the test tomorrow, Miss Daae?”

Christine shrugged again. “I don’t like saying definite things for items like tests. Makes it a larger disappointment if I don’t do well.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” he said. He stood, placing his laptop into a messenger bag that he then slung over his shoulder. Christine couldn’t help but watch him. Jeans. He was in jeans and a tight long sleeved sweater that left no muscle to the imagination. It was odd to see him out of his normal formal wear. Slacks, ties, cardigans. True professor wear. 

Christine looked up at him as he stood in front of her, and it wasn’t until his eyes glanced to the door she realized she was in his way. “Sorry,” she muttered as she stepped towards the counter once more. When had she moved towards his table? 

“Quite alright,” he said and smiled. He took a step to the door and stopped before leaning down to Christine’s ear. “Carotid. A comes before O in the alphabet,” he whispered before leaving.

Christine blinked, unsure what he meant at first. All she could focus on was how close he had been, how she could feel the warmth of his breath on her ear, and how his cologne was… perfect. Citrusy. It wasn’t until the tiny bell above the door had rung a second time as the glass closed behind him did it hit her. He’d given her a helpful tip for the test.

“A before O,” she whispered to herself.

“Here you go Christine!” Yaz called, setting down a brown paper bag and a coffee to-go. 

“Thanks… Hey, Yaz? How often does that guy come in?” she asked.

Yaz glanced out the window where Dr. Destler was checking his phone on the sidewalk. “Oh. Erik? He’s always here. Sundays and Thursdays usually. He’s nice. Why?”

Yaz looked concerned. Christine knew if a customer made another uncomfortable, Yaz would step in. So would Bruce, who owned Kismet and was often there in the morning. 

“No no, it’s nothing bad! It’s just… he’s my professor,” she explained. Chrsitine shrugged it off, placing her easy smile back on her face.

“Thanks, Yaz.” She grabbed the bag and drink and left, walking the opposite way Erik had gone.

Erik. It had been odd to see him in jeans, see him outside a lecture hall. But the oddest thing was hearing Yasmine use his name so easily.  _ Erik. _ Christine wanted to be allowed to call him that. That night, she ate, watching Gilmore Girls instead of studying. 

_ A before O.  _

  
  
  



	2. The Coffee Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you so so much for the love for this project already. I assure you I will write more, but I will not be the fastest as muse comes and goes, as well as I'm currently drafting other projects at the same time. If you have any questions about my choices let me know! I will say Erik here is more based through the Kay novel than anything else, and that I have my reasonings for his deformity/mask not being present (these will obviously come in later). If you have any ideas you want to possibly see in a chapter you can send them to me here or on Tumblr @universesinhermind I can't promise I will use them, but they could help me a lot when stuck on a scene or idea. Thank you all once again. Every comment, kudos, and bookmark means so much to me.

Meg had taken over Christine’s favorite reading spot on the couch. The blonde was stretched out, her long dancer legs crossed at the ankles as she ate lo mein from a take out box. Christine couldn’t help but be slightly impressed by her friend’s excellent use of the chopsticks.

“So he just, like, gave you an answer?” Meg asked, speaking around her food. 

Christine had opened up about the crush. The interaction with Dr. Deslter -Erik- in Kismet was too much to keep to herself. So instead she had let herself invite Meg over a few days later, after the test, to spill all of the secrets. She stabbed at her kung pao chicken and shrugged.

“Not an answer just… something I kept messing up. I kept spelling carotid C-O-R-A-T-I-D. But it’s C-A-R-O-T-I-D. He said A comes before O in the alphabet. And it would’ve just been a professor trying to help me with a mistake I made, but he… he leaned down and whispered it in my ear. I could barely hear what he was saying. I was that shocked.”

Meg hummed and sat up a bit. “He’s into you,” she finally said. 

Christine choked on her water. Once she was sure that she wasn’t going to choke to death, she set down her cup and looked at her friend. “What?”

“He’s into you. From that to him constantly looking at you during class?” Christine regretted telling Meg that detail; that she was fairly certain he made eye contact with her more than any other student and that when she wore her favorite blouse, he had definitely glanced at her breasts. 

Christine shook her head. “You’re crazy. You think every guy is out to… be with me.”

Meg laughed at that. “Because they are. Any guy would be happy to stick it in, if you know what I’m saying.”

Red spread across Christine’s cheeks. “You’re incorrigible, Marguerite.”

Meg laughed. “Christine seriously, listen to me okay? For the past, what, three weeks? He’s looked at you the most, he’s made comments to you before and after class, he boasts how you use the right questions in class. And when you see him outside of the class, he leans down to whisper in your ear. Am i missing anything?” Meg was ticking off everything Christine had told her on her fingers.

Christine made a face, a pouty look that spoke of her being rather upset her friend was correct. “No…” she finally said, stabbing another piece of chicken.

“Listen. You’re an adult. And so is he. If this was any other situation, one where you and him met somehow that wasn’t school, I’d say take life, or him, by the balls and ask him out. But this is tricker…” Meg sat up, setting down her own food on the coffee table. “He needs to make the move. And while you’re both consenting adults, I don’t know if it’s against the university for you and him to be involved together.”

“Whoa, Meg, you are like a thousand leagues ahead of me here. I’m not saying he’s interested in me or wants to date me. I don't know if I want that! Not with… with trying to get to that Master’s program and with Dad…” Christine didn’t have to finish her thought there. Meg’s face instead let her know the blonde understood. 

“Well, when he asks you out, I better be the first one you call. Freshman me had more than a few fantasies about him.” Meg went back to her reclined position and turned the TV back on. 

With a soft sighed, Christine returned to her own meal. Meg was definitely her closest friend, though maybe sister was a better word. Meg and Christine had been a unit since they were four. Christine still had a few pictures from their first ballet recital, with the two of them holding hands and smiling wide in their blue and purple tutus. If anything were to happen with Erik, which was probably as rare if not rarer than being struck by lightning, Meg would be the first person Christine spoke to about it.

Just because the possibility was small didn’t make it any less amazing to fantasize about… 

That night, Christine Daae dreamt of Erik Destler’s hands and eyes. At least, that was all she remembered in the morning. 

  
  


“I was rather shocked by the test grades from last week,” Dr. Destler spoke as he stood at the front of the classroom. “I only had one D. And no Fs. Meaning everyone passed my first test very well. Now, I want you all to take that and continue to go up. Do not let your study habits, your note taking, or your time in the textbook slip.”

Christine nodded though he hadn’t said anything that needed a response. She’d already checked her grades online, and found he hadn’t put them in. Instead she’d noticed a green book on his desk. So he kept grades handwritten first she assumed. 

He began to read out names for people to come collect the test from him. And her insides melted slightly as he said her name aloud.

“Christine Daae.” 

She stood and walked the few feet to take the outstretched paper. Erik glanced up at her, gave a smile, then glanced down to her outfit. Christine felt self conscious of the sundress she’d worn as she sat down. It was mid September now, and it was probably the last warm day she could wear it. So she’d pulled out the yellow sundress and her favorite lip gloss. Was it too much for an 8:30 am class? Probably… 

She sat back down and smiled seeing her grade. 92% was written in very fine handwriting.

AS he read out the rest of the names, Christine looked through her test to find her mistakes. A few were questions she’d known she’d get wrong, and others she had been iffy. But it was one question he’d circled that she looked at. It wasn’t marked wrong, simply marked. 

What is the main artery in the neck?

A simple question, and Christine had written the correct answer: carotid.

_ I’m glad to see my tip helped you.  _ Written in the same neat handwriting, in thin red ink. 

By the time she’d recovered from the shock that, yes, that interaction had been real, and she hadn’t just imagined him or something, he had finished calling out names and was beginning review. Christine took out her own red pen and followed along, only half hearing him through the hour.

“I believe that’s all. I’ll let you all go early as a reward for all passing. 8:30, Wednesday, we begin discussing muscles,” Dr. Destler said. Within a second there was shuffling of bags and muffled voices speaking and comparing test scores and answers.

“Miss Daae,” he said quietly, quietly enough so only she could hear. Christine looked up. He had knocked his knuckles gently on the table in front of her.

“Yes, Dr. Destler?” she said. Pressing her lips together was a habit she often had, but she resisted it now. She did not want him looking at her lips. Yes she did. No she didn’t.

“While everyone passed, you were one of only three A’s. I’m very impressed,” he said.

Christine shrugged and smiled softly. “Must have been your excellent advice and the food at Kismet that got me through,” she said.

He nodded. “Well, if you need any other study tips, I find myself there Wednesday and Thursdays evenings at six.” 

Christine found her head bobbing in a nod. “Are these extended office hours only available to me?”

“Yes. I was hoping next time I can buy you your coffee. After all, it was Kismet.”

“Fate, yes.” Christine stood, and found that she was much much shorter than her professor. “As… as tempting as that offer is, Doctor Destler-”

“Erik.”

Christine swallowed down a gasp. “Erik,” she slowly corrected. “As tempting and kind of an offer that is, I feel it’s slightly unprofessional.”

“I’d much prefer this discussion somewhere else, Miss Daae-”

“Christine.” God it felt good to interrupt him as he had her. “I’d prefer if you called me Christine.”

He nodded, giving that lopsided smile. “Well, I will be at the cafe at those times and on those days. And we can discuss more then. After all, it’s just a cafe. Plenty of people go. And professors and students alike need coffee to get them through the day.” 

The lecture hall was empty. It had been empty since his knock on her desk. It had been empty this whole time, otherwise she knew he wouldn’t dare risk speaking to her. 

“And why am I so special to get these… study sessions where you buy me coffee at a cafe quite literally named fate?” she asked.

“That’s the question of the hour, Miss Daae. I hope to discuss it with you. At Kismet. Shall we say Thursday?”

“Wednesday.” At his cocked eyebrow and smile, Christine felt her cheeks warm. She was blushing. Was she? She definitely was blushing and she was pressing her lips together and his eyes were looking at her lips. Her heart was going so fast. Tachycardia. He’d described Tachycardia as a fast heart rate, and hers was definitely racing now. 

“I tend to be rather impatient. And I already have plans on Thursday,” she explained herself.

Dr. Destler - Erik - gave a single nod. “I will see you then.” With those five words he turned back to his lectern and began to organize everything into neat piles, and place them back in a messenger bag.

Christine hastily gathered her own things, not caring for organization and simply wanting out as soon as possible. The hallway outside was bustling with people from the lecture, still talking and comparing notes. Christine didn’t know any of them. Most were nursing students or pre-med or some other science or medicine major that she hadn’t ever considered for herself.

As she dodged their bodies, needing fresh air and sunlight on her cheeks, she heard her name.

“Christine!”

She turned. There was a boy there. Or rather a boy when compared to the man currently occupying every corner of her mind. He was tall and had sandy blonde hair and a smile. She instantly thought of a golden retriever. Tail wagging, tongue lolling, and running after a tennis ball.

“Hi,” she said.

“You probably don’t remember me,” he said.

Christine squinted at him. “I… Raoul?”

The boy smiled. “So you do remember, Lotte.”

Christine visibly flinched at the nickname. “Hi. Um… it’s good to see you Raoul. What have you been up to?”

“Not much. How about you? How’s your dad?”

It took everything to not yell at this boy and storm away. Instead she shrugged. “We’re fine. I’ve got to get going. I’m meeting Meg for some brunch,” she lied.

“Well, hey, message me on Facebook okay?” Raoul said. 

With a nod and a promise she didn’t intend to keep, Christine was finally allowed to push open the doors outside. It was warm out and the sun was shining through a sky full of perfectly fluffy white clouds. A quick glance at her phone told her it was 9:45. Meg went into her first class in fifteen minutes. Which left Christine to think about this date- no. Meeting. This meeting with her professor. And to think of it alone.

It felt like the last day of summer. That feeling of lazy days and warm sunshine in one last hurrah on this day. Many students were taking advantage of it, sprawled in the grass or on tables like Christine had perched herself. There was a guy napping under a tree and a girl playing guitar. It all felt so picture perfect college that it made Christine hate the scene.

Life wasn’t perfect and beautiful like it was on the glossy brochures that went to every poor soul who checked a certain box on an AP exam or the SAT. Some people here were struggling. Christine found herself making stories for them. The napping kid was asleep because he worked third shift to be able to pay for tuition. The guitar girl was trying to find a way to express herself after the divorce of her parents.

Maybe if people looked at Christine they’d see the daughter of a man fighting for his life. 

Or maybe they’d just see another college girl, sitting and enjoying the last day of summer, day-dreaming about a boy. Or man. 

By the time Christine got the chance to tell Meg about the meeting-not-date, it was already Wednesday.

“I’m sorry, you had promised to tell me!”

“I don’t think I did. And it isn’t… involvement. It’s a meeting. Plenty of professors prefer to meet in public spaces as opposed to their office, it isn’t exactly a new concept,” Christine said, racking her hands through her wardrobe for the perfect outfit.

Meg shook her head. “Christine Eloise Daae, this is not like that and you know it.” She forced herself into Christine’s small bedroom and shook her head again. “See?! You’re planning an outfit! You’re already dressed nicely.”

Christine glanced down at the blouse that had gotten her the longest stare before. She’d worn it to lecture today, but purposefully avoided his gaze at any time. She didn’t need to be reminded that she definitely shouldn’t be doing what she was about to be doing. 

“No, I’m dressing down. I’m going to make it clear to him that this is just us meeting as a professor and student. Nothing else.” Christine pulled out a powder blue top. The bow on the front made it still seem young, but it was gorgeous. It was one of her favorites. She pulled out her favorite pair of jeans with it, and then grabbed her favorite cream cardigan she had worn when she’d ran into him at the cafe. Meg rolled her eyes.

“Stop.” She grabbed Christine’s wrist as Christine pulled out a pair of ballet flats. “These ones.” Meg instead pulled out a wedged pair of shoes, beige colored with crossed straps around her ankles. 

Christine glanced at her friend. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“If you need me, text me with a number one to ten. One means I text you. Ten means I run into the cafe insisting you need to come immediately.” 

Christine laughed at her friend but eventually nodded. “Okay,” she said. 

At 5:45, Christine was sitting at her favorite table in Kismet. She was early, and her leg was bouncing under the table. There was no doubt that she was nervous to see him. Maybe he wouldn’t show, and she’d just have gone there for nothing.

The little bell above the door chimed again, and Christine looked up hopefully.

Erik walked in, dressed in those damn jeans again and another cable knit sweater. This one was far less tight, but it still fit him as if someone had knitted the hewn gray colored garment just for him. He quickly caught her gaze and smiled, moving to sit across from her before she thought to raise her hand in greeting.

“Must be Kismet,” Christine quickly said. 

Erik nodded. “Indeed. How long have you been waiting?” he asked.

“Only a few minutes,” she said. “Not too long.”

“Well, I believe I owe you a coffee. What do you like?”

“Hazelnut latte, though you don’t owe it to me,” Christine quickly said. She stood up as he did. 

Erik gave her a soft look as he pulled out his wallet. “Sit down, I want to buy you a coffee,” he said. So she sat.

Five minutes later, her hands were cupped around a red ceramic mug, steam curling into the air from the beautiful latte art. Erik had sat down again with his own mug full of what seemed to be just black coffee. Naturally. 

“How has your day been?” he asked.

“I thought this was about studying,” Christine said.

Erik nodded, though not from what Christine said it seemed. “You want to cut right to it. I can appreciate that.”

“I just don’t find it… I…” Words just weren’t working in Christine’s head. “Why did you ask me to the cafe today?”

“Because I find you incredibly attractive, Miss Daae, and you fascinate me.” 

Christine appreciated the fact he didn’t bullshit around and instead cut to the truth of the matter. She found herself nodding, unsure what else to do. A sip of latte, a deep breath.  _ Collect yourself, Lotte. _

“I can’t lie that I also find you attractive. However, you are my professor,” Christine pointed out. 

Erik nodded. He’d leaned back slightly in his chair, sipping his coffee while keeping those hazel-gold eyes locked on her own. Gold and Sapphire. 

“There is no issue in the university if that’s what you’re wondering. Rather, it isn’t something I would need to disclose, and if there were issues, I would handle them. I’m not asking for a relationship, Christine.”

“If you aren’t asking for a relationship what is it you want?” 

He took a few seconds to roll that question around. She could practically see him turning it over in his hands,searching for the best angle, the best response. 

“I want a date. I want to know you, Christine. Not the student. I understand this might scare you, and I understand. If it does, feel free to tell me right now and I’ll leave.”

He paused, looking at her as if he expected her to say this was creepy. Christine couldn’t. Not when she’d fantasized about him at night. About his fingers instead of her own, about him warming her sheets and making her eggs in the morning. His mouth quipped up at her lack of response and he nodded.

“So… a date.”

“A date,” he said. “Perhaps… Friday?”

Christine hummed as she thought this over herself. Friday. A date Friday. That was only two days away. “Okay. A date it is,” she said.

Erik smiled, wide and crooked. “I’m glad. Now, if you really want study tips I could give you some,” he said, chuckling slightly at his last few words.

Christine let herself laugh. “No, I think I have things under control.”

“It would appear that you do.” 

He raised his mug to his lips again, and she mirrored with her own. The next twenty minutes was filled with small talk about the class and the rest of her schedule. She tried to ask him something more personal, but he insisted she save it for the date. Once their mugs were full and the sun was beginning to dip, Christine stood from the table.

“I should head back. I have a few assignments to complete now if I want to have a clear head for our date,” she said.

Erik stood along with her and nodded. “Allow me to drive you home.” He didn’t ask. He almost commanded it. Christine pressed her lips together, which caused his eyes to glance down at them before darting back up. “Please,” he finally added.

Christine nodded. “That would be nice.” 

  
  



	3. The Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello everyone, sorry for the bit of a delay. I'm unsure what updating schedule I will have with this, but I'll try to be slightly consistent. I hope you enjoy. Thank you for the comments! Any and all feedback is appreciated! Enjoy the date <3 -Liv

Meg had been full of I-Told-You-So’s, and I-Was-Right’s as Christine told her about the date. Luckily, though, she didn’t seem hesitant about it, which made Christine feel better. In her head this was still beyond taboo. A professor dating a student. Someone older dating someone younger. 

Someone like him dating someone like her.

Luckily, between Wednesday night and Friday night, she had plenty of things to do to help her pass the time, so she wasn’t just anxiously awaiting for this date. His text message for example. On the car ride home, in a lovely BMW that she had never hoped to sit in before, she had given him her phone number.

“Seems far better than using the email I have,” he’d said. So she’d written it down on a napkin from her purse along with her name, as if he’d forget who had written their number on a Starbucks napkin in purple ink. 

He had sent a simple text the following morning, when he knew that she wouldn’t see him until Friday. 

[TEXT]: _I look forward to our time together Friday. 7:00. I’ll pick you up at your apartment._

Christine and Meg had crouched over the phone together, looking at the text, analyzing it the way High School English teachers analyzed Jane Austen novels. 

After concluding there was no real hidden message within the few sentences, Christine luckily had a busy work day ahead of her.

Two years ago she’d learned of an after-school tutoring program at the elementary school, and decided to apply. It was good field experience, and she genuinely loved the children she worked with. After helping the second graders with sentences and the third graders with multiplying, she went home. Christine took her time making herself dinner, eating slowly, trying to not think of Erik as much as possible. But that was nearly impossible. In twenty-four hours, he was going to be picking her up. He was going to pick her up and take her on a date. 

Friday morning came, and Christine was extremely grateful that there were no classes she had to bother with on Fridays. That only meant she had all day to think of what to wear, and to count down the hours and minutes before she could see him again. It hadn’t occurred to her how often Erik Destler took up her thoughts until she was actively trying to get him _out_ of her thoughts. He stood with command at the center of her mind, just as he stood in the classroom every Monday and Wednesday. Just as he had her freshman year.

It was just lunch time when she got the next text.

[TEXT]: _How do you feel about Italian food?_

She set her laptop on the coffee table. It was old and probably on its last legs, but she had to save every penny she could. Between her father’s illness and the cost of living off campus and textbooks, she couldn’t afford a new laptop. Besides, the one she had now worked just fine. 

Christine began to type, then quickly deleted the words. She started anew. Deleted again. Finally she just settled on a simple response.

[TEXT]: _I feel very good about it._

As soon as she sent it she decided she hated it. It was supposed to sound flirty and confident, but it just sounded clunky and childish. But there was no taking back the text now. Instead she opted for a quick second text.

[TEXT]: _By that I mean it’s my favorite. I love Italian._

Italian food was her favorite, bringing back memories of one of the nurses who came to the house to care for her mother, back when they went from curative care to palliative and hospice. Of course, seven year old Christine didn’t know the difference between the two nurses or what those words really meant. While her name had long since faded from Christine's memory, the images of her in the kitchen making pasta by hand, cutting vegetables, and letting the young girl sneak pinches of mozzarella were firm in place. 

Italian was comfort food. Maybe she could even bring leftovers to her father. He kept complaining that the hospital had the worst pasta he’d ever tasted.

She waited for a final confirmation text, but all she got was a simple _read at 12:04._

Six and a half hours… that was all!

Maybe she shouldn't have double texted him… 

Despite a wardrobe that by all consideration was completely full, Christine had nothing to wear. That’s how it felt at least. Every dress she owned was spread on her bed, some in a discarded pile. It wasn’t exactly chilly yet, but it definitely wasn’t summer anymore. The weather was holding in a soft liminal space of early autumn. Warm days with crisp breezes, where one could order a Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino and not shiver to the bone as they drink it. 

She found herself wishing Meg was over for the millionth time that day. Meg was at the studio her mother owned, teaching a beginners ballet to four and five year olds. Christine used to help; back when she was far more active and did more than the occasional Nutcracker or Swan Lake.

Christine adored dresses so naturally she had far too many to pick from. Eventually she narrowed it to a red sundress. There were scattered white flowers all over, and the red was rich and beautiful. The skirt hit just under her knees, and she figured the three quarter length sleeves would be perfect for whatever weather it was. 

After getting dressed and adding a pair of heels, she fixed her hair and makeup. And waited. She considered herself a very patient person. One had to be if you were working with children.

When it came to Erik Destler, she was anything but patient.

At 6:58 there was a knock at her door. Christine jumped up from her spot and opened the door, unable to hide the excited yet nervous grin.

Erik Destler looked phenomenal. Dress shirt, hair perfectly curled, smiling as he held out a bouquet of red roses. “Good evening,” he said.

“Hi,” she said back. Chrisitne looked at the roses and then, after a second of standing and staring, took them. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t know your favorite flower so I figured a standard rose would suffice.”

“As it happens to be my favorite flower, a standard rose will always suffice. Let me get these in water. Uh… come in.” She stepped aside to find a vase for the flowers. It took a minute of searching, but eventually the vase was retrieved. 

Erik took the time to examine the parts of the apartment he could see. A bookshelf and desk sat where a dining table would be. A couch and a coffee table, a tv, and a few pictures hung on the walls. It wasn’t the most elaborate of spaces, but it was soft and cozy. He found himself quite easily imagining his student working on her papers and assignments in this space.

Christine set the vase down on the coffee table, a towel under it so no water ring formed on the wood before straightening. She grabbed her purse and smiled. He smiled back. 

“You look beautiful, Christine,” he said, and watched her cheeks flush red to match her dress. He considered telling her that red was his favorite color, and that seeing her in it made her even more irresistible, but she seemed a little flustered by the simple compliment. He didn’t want to overwhelm her on this date. 

“Shall we?” He offered his elbow, and Christine felt her heart melt slightly. How often had she imagined Prince Charming doing that when she was a girl? How many times did she still imagine it?

With a delicate hand on the crook of his elbow, she gave a single nod.

  
  


Androccio’s was a restaurant Erik loved, and Christine had never been to. Christine always associated this restaurant with people who had an excess amount of money. She had never imagined going here for a first date.

They were seated, and Erik ordered them both wine. While Christine didn’t drink often, she did enjoy good wine. Christine was also suddenly grateful for taking Italian in school as the entire menu was written only in Italian. She had no interest in Spanish, and she already knew French. 

“How has your day been?” 

Christine glanced up at Erik and found him staring at her, not the menu. She set hers down and gave a soft shrug. “I did some homework. Nothing very exciting,” she said. “What about you?”

“I was at my practice all day.”

“Practice?” Christine’s eyebrows furrowed. She hadn’t been aware he was practicing.

“Yes. I am an MD. I work at the pediatrics office. On days I don’t teach, that is.”

Christine hadn’t known this. She had assumed he was a PhD in Biology, but now that she was thinking of it, his name had MD after it on her syllabus. 

“Do you prefer that over teaching?” she asked politely, returning her gaze to the menu. 

“That’s a hard question. I enjoy both, which is why I do both,” he explained. He watched her gaze across the page and smirked softly. “Might I suggest something?”

“Hmm?”

“Their penne alla vodka with shrimp is my personal favorite. That or the lobster ravioli. Both pair rather nicely with the wine,” he explained, gently pouring the bottle that had arrived during their conversation. 

Christine hummed. “Both sound lovely. WHy don’t you order for me?”

Erik’s eyes flitted up from the glass to look at her, then back down. “Of course. If that’s what you wish.” She couldn’t help but enjoy the soft smirk that held at his lips as he spoke those words.

The atmosphere was very romantic. Candles and soft music and warm tones. The sounds of clinking glasses and voices mingled with the piano. 

“So, you practice still, you teach two biology courses. Anything else about you?” she asked.

Erik sipped his wine before nodding once. “I adore music. I play piano and a few other instruments. My mother put me in piano lessons at a very young age. I always enjoyed them.”

For a second, Christine completely forgot who this man was, other than her date. He wasn’t her professor, he was just Erik. 

“My father is a violinist. He played in the pit for a few broadway shows as well as in the symphonic orchestra in Boston! I adore music too. While I don’t play very well… I _do_ enjoy singing, though.”

“I hope to hear your voice one day. If it’s as beautiful as you, I may very well believe I’ve heard the angels.”

There it was again. That blush on her cheeks. He rather liked making her blush. When the waitress came by again, he ordered two lobster ravioli dishes before returning his attention to her. The candlelight made her eyes a deep and rich blue, and her curls looked soft. He wanted to reach out and touch them, stroke his hands through her hair. He knew this date was a fantasy. That after this they would return to normalcy and he’d move on from her. 

He hoped at least.

Christine was hoping nearly the opposite. That this might lead to something, or rather someone. Someone who could care for her, maybe love her. She’d spent the past year playing caretaker, she wanted someone to care for her. Just for one day even. 

“What about you, Christine? What are your plans, post graduation?”

“Oh! Well I’m going to go and get my masters in literacy and reading and then hopefully teach elementary school,” she explained. “I love children. And while I’m not exactly scientifically minded, I can at least hope to teach them. My own teachers were very special to me. I want to be that for another child.”

“Teaching is an admirable profession, but I can tell you that you have more promise in Anatomy and Physiology than some of the pre-med students in your class.”

“Only thanks to your hint at Kismet.”

He hummed and sat back slightly in his chair. For a minute, they just looked at each other, taking in their partner across the table. Christine’s mind was swirling. Erik’s was far more steady, trying to find the precise words that would tell her what he felt. 

“You were concerned about this being unprofessional. Why?”

That was obviously not what Christine expected him to say. Her fingers traced the base of her wine glass as she thought. He noticed that her nails were cut short, and a few of her cuticles looked as if she was nervously picking at them. A nasty habit he’d seen in all sorts of people, mainly those who were anxious or worried.

“I haven’t had a serious relationship before. Let alone with my professor who is… older than me.”

“You make it sound as if I’m ancient.”

“How old _are_ you?”

He was quiet for a second before saying, “Thirty-seven.” 

“That’s sixteen years. Well fifteen. I turn twenty-two next month. But still.”

“Is that the only reason for your hesitancy?”

She looked down again and pressed her lips together. No. It wasn’t. Her mind was instantly screaming the word virgin at herself. That she was inexperienced in every aspect of relationships. The closest she had gotten was Raoul, and as soon as they had left for college, he had just stopped speaking to her. That only made her think of that encounter with him the other day. She hadn’t seen him since, thank goodness. Now was not the time to think of Raoul or her lack of experience though.

“No. But… I feel it’s a good enough reason to be hesitant.”

“It is.” He let the words hang there, taking the pause he needed. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable nor do I wish to make you feel forced into anything. This-” he gestured to the table between them, “-is entirely your choice. You can even throw the wine at me and leave in a rage if you so desire.”

“I’d never do that. This wine is too expensive to throw at you.”

Erik laughed at that. She was clever. Sharp witted and sassy. Much more fun than someone who didn’t try to challenge him mentally. 

“Christine, I truly don’t want this to be awkward. I enjoyed our time at Kismet.”

“I did too.”

Before they could say more, the food came. Christine was suddenly very grateful that she didn’t have to say more as she began to eat. It was delicious, as he had promised. Rich and full of flavor. It brought her back to helping in the kitchen, making pasta and sauce and bread with that Italian nurse. 

After declining dessert (she was far too stuffed) and a second glass of wine (she was content with one), the two stood to leave. Erik hadn’t even given her the chance to look at the bill, simply pulling out a card and handing it to the waiter before it was placed on the table. 

The night had cooled off significantly, and Christine found herself with goosebumps up and down her arms. Luckily his car warmed up quickly. They sat there for a minute or two, her warming up, and him tapping his fingers on the wheel.

“When you say you haven’t had a serious relationship, does that mean sexually as well?” he asked. He glanced over. “You can tell me.”

Christine’s face flushed the brightest red it had all night and he smirked. That was answer enough. “You look stunning in red, Christine. It happens to be my favorite color.”

Her voice wouldn’t work. She tried to get out a few words, but they just stuck in her throat. Her gaze was somewhere on the radio knob before he placed a finger under her chin, and turned her gaze to him. “I need a yes or a no,” he said gently yet firmly.

“Yes,” she finally answered, eyes wide.

He hummed, his thumb stroking her jaw. “That’s rather shocking,” he admitted. “But I understand.” His hand dropped from her chin, and Christine thought she’d drop through the earth. As if her entire being had been held on his fingertip under her chin.

He put the car in gear and began to head to her apartment. The car ride was quiet, neither of them touching the radio or their phones. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable though, like Christine expected. It was soft and warm and comforting. Him allowing her to think through her thoughts, her allowing him the same. When he parked, he waited for her to move to unbuckle.

“Let me walk you to your apartment at the very least,” he said, moving around the car to open her door.

Christine couldn’t say no. Her father had always insisted her dates walk her back to the door. Erik obviously lived by whatever code it was that all Father’s insisted men use. His hand was warm at the small of her back as he guided her up the stairs, and she could smell the cologne on him. It smelled rich. Expensive. Masculine and soft and heady. 

After a quick dig in her purse, she pulled out her keys and unlocked her door. She glanced up at him and smiled. “I had a good time tonight,” she said.

“I’m glad.”

She nodded, suddenly feeling awkward and small in her doorway. “Would… would you like to come in for tea?”

He chuckled at that and shook his head. “Maybe after our next date.”

“Next date?”

“Well, you said you had a good time. I assumed that meant we’d be able to have another. Perhaps at the same time next week?”

Christine smiled softly. She gave a simple nod.

“I’d like that, Erik.”

“I like when you say my name.”

Christine’s heart was pounding. “Erik,” she whispered.

Erik’s lips quirked into a smile before he leaned down to press the softest kiss he could to her lips. Christine’s stomach flipped and somersaulted through her as she kissed back. She was floating above the ground when he pulled away, her head light and airy. 

“Goodnight, Christine. Go to sleep, alright?”

She nodded. “Goodnight, Erik.”


	4. The First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello everyone! We're getting to some good juicy bits ;) I hope you all enjoy. I'll try to update within the next week again. Thanks for all your comments. If you have any ideas for scenes you can always find me at universesinhermind on Tumblr. Enjoy. Also from now on I will have warnings below that describe anything NSFW that might happen in the chapter. 
> 
> Warnings: Sex, first time, virginity

Christine was the first thing Erik noticed whenever he began his lectures, especially after their date. His entire day Saturday had been spent recalling the image of her lips parted and her eyes wide as he tilted her chin to him. Sunday was spent much the same, despite his efforts to keep his thoughts in more holy places during church. Monday was a thrill for him. He’d see her, this new energy electric between them. 

She was there early, of course. He always set his things down and went to grab a coffee from the campus store before returning, and in those five minutes, Christine Daae had never failed to set up her educational camp in the front row. Pens and highlighters and a large notebook that looked well studied already. He appreciated that she took physical notes as opposed to typing. Most of his lectures were to the background noise of clicking keys and the occasional notification that someone forgot to turn off. He assumed most of those students had other things open on their laptops, but he knew that he had Christine’s full attention at least. 

Today she was in another dress. He’d quickly noticed her affinity towards them. He had no complaints. Her legs were a weakness of his he’d discovered. The dress was a lighter sundress, a rich maroon color that she had a chunky knit cream cardigan over. Her curls were swept in a bun on top of her head, and her pen was already moving on the page.

“Good morning, Christine,” he said.

She looked up, as if shocked to hear his voice. As if she wasn’t in  _ his _ lecture. 

“Good morning,” she said. He noticed the earbuds then, dangling from her ears to her phone. She pressed pause on whatever she was listening to and set down her pen.

“Um… about Friday,” she started.

His heart jumped slightly. Had the date not actually gone well? Had he been too forward with the kiss? 

“I… I had a really great time. I just wanted to say that again. And I hope that won’t change anything between us here.”

With those words he let out a soft breath. She didn’t hate him. She didn’t see the man he had once been. That man was long since gone, snipped and cut away by himself through the years. It had been years since he had worn a mask, and for some reason she made him feel as if he still did. Part of him swore that her fingers would reach up and rip away his protection. He had no mask to rip away, so what was this vulnerable feeling around her?

“I enjoyed myself as well. And fear not, there are nearly fifty other students for me to harass on the day to day,” Erik said. He noticed her homemade coffee sitting on her desk. “A hazelnut latte, right?”

Christine glanced at her mug and shook her head. “Not a latte. Just boring regular coffee with hazelnut creamer instead. And like five scoops of sugar.” Her voice tinkled with a soft laugh at that, and she shrugged lightly. “I like to treat myself with those lattes when I’m studying for a test or when it’s been a stressful day.”

Whatever Erik wanted to say back was interrupted by another student coming in and sitting in their normal seat. Erik quickly put on a more metaphorical mask of Doctor Destler, and went to organize his lectern and turn on his power point. He could only hope Christine would stay late after the lecture.

The lecture went well, as they always did for him. He had made himself known as a strict teacher for this reason. While he genuinely did enjoy teaching, that’s what he was here to do, not reprimand young adults for childish behavior. Luckily there had been none this semester, even in his freshmen class. 

As they all filtered out once he’d given the okay, he watched Christine. Her head was bent over the notebook again, carefully finishing her notes. She set down the pen and glanced behind her shoulder before slowly packing everything away. It was almost as if she were purposefully going at a snail’s pace.

“I’m not allowed to leave until the last student leaves,” he said.

Christine looked up, eyes wide and innocent. That look sent a pang of  _ something  _ through him. He wouldn’t label it arousal. Not yet. She was inexperienced, no need to scare her away. But then her lips quirked up in a smirk. She knew what she was doing, and he rather loved her for it. 

“I like taking my time. I don’t want to lose anything while I’m packing,” she said.

He nodded and watched her closely. “What are you doing the rest of today?” he asked.

Christine shrugged a single shoulder. “I have a class a little later but then I’m free. I was planning on going to get some food.”

“What food?”

“Probably just a drive thru somewhere with my friend. I need to go grocery shopping. As gross as the food is, food is food when you’re in college.”

Erik made a face. “No. Don’t go through a drive thru. If you want I’ll take you out at one. My freshman class finishes at noon.”

Christine tilted her head to the side then smiled. “Is this an early second date?”

“Only if you’d like it to be. It’s more so me making sure you’re eating well and not being cruel to your body.”

Christine hummed at that, finally packed. She stood and swung her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll be at your office, then,” she said and left. He watched her hips sway as she climbed the shallow steps up to the exit. She was growing bolder, more confident around him. Good. 

“You should come to my place for dinner tomorrow,” Erik said, setting down his glass. It was Friday, and he’d taken her to an Asian Fusion restaurant. 

Monday’s lunch had gone well. They’d agreed on a little cafe and each gotten the same salad, which had made Christine laugh. It was far more relaxed than Friday’s dinner, which was enjoyable. Christine spoke freely about what inspired her and what she hoped to do once she graduated. The comfortable environment gave him the idea for a Saturday night dinner. 

Wednesday before class he had stopped at Kismet to order a hazelnut latte, and had rejoiced slightly in Christine’s smile as he handed it over. It was as if the clouds had parted on that cloudy Wednesday. Eyes bright blue, smile wide, gratefully accepting the latte with lots of thank yous. She’d even gotten on her toes and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his cheek. That kiss had burned on his cheek all day long, and he’d promised himself to get her another on Monday if it meant she gave him those kisses. 

Christine gave a tiny questioning hum in return to his statement, having just placed another roll of sushi in her mouth. Erik chuckled slightly. She really was adorable. 

“Tomorrow. I’d like to make you dinner at my house,” he said. 

The thoughts turned in her head. Dinner. At his house. Not somewhere public. It had only been a week, and he was inviting her to his house.

“You’re allowed to say no, Christine.”

This brought Christine back it seemed. She sipped her water and then nodded. “Okay. Tomorrow. Dinner. At your house.”

The confirmation made his smile. He had hoped she’d say yes, and hearing the words made him smile wider. “How’s your sushi?” he asked.

“Amazing!” 

As she spoke about the food and a few other mundane things, Erik was thinking about everything to prepare for tomorrow. She had a new bouquet of roses in her apartment now, but he’d give her more. He’d throw roses everywhere for her if it made her happy. 

House was a modest word when compared to Erik’s home. Christine looked up at the large property. It was a traditional cape cod house. Large with windows everywhere, a beautiful porch, and surrounded by beautiful landscaping that was slowly succumbing to autumn. 

“Wow,” she whispered once he’d parked his car. 

He’d picked her up and they had stopped by a Starbucks. He got a cold brew, black, and she’d gotten an iced matcha latte. Christine had decided to wear a jumpsuit for the dinner. It was a simple black one, but it was easily her favorite. Paired with heels, a jacket, and gold jewelry, she rather liked her outfit today. Erik seemed to have as well, since his smile hadn’t left his face the entire time since he first saw her.

“Wow? Is that all?” he asked, stepping out of the car. 

Christine had learned to wait for him to open her door. Taking his hand, she stepped out and nodded. “It’s… beautiful. That kind you see in magazines and movies.”

Erik chuckled at that. “Let’s go inside. I hope it lives up to your expectations.”

“Should I lower them?” she asked teasingly. “Did all the money go to the exterior?”

“Oh, never lower your expectations when it comes to me. I enjoy a challenge.”

Christine smirked at that and let him lead her into the house.

Inside was just as magazine perfect. It was clean, yet still homey. Rich, dark hardwood floors spread across the open concept floor. A large comfy looking couch with inviting pillows sat facing a large TV. The kitchen was gorgeous and modern, and Christine was already wishing it was her own. The island, the fridge, the stove and oven. Everything about the kitchen was perfect. In fact, the entire downstairs was perfect. 

“Well… all expectations have definitely been exceeded,” she said, rather breathlessly.

And to think he’d seen her dingy apartment… 

“I had a friend of mine design it all. She did rather wonderfully,” he said, taking her jacket off of her shoulders. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Christine could smell something delicious cooking, and she went to investigate in the kitchen. She found roast beef and vegetables slow cooking in the oven. “It smells amazing,” she said.

“I hope it tastes good. It’s been far too long since I’ve cooked for two.”

He joined her by her side, taking down two wine glasses. Christine smiled and stepped aside to give him room. This would be a lovely evening. She knew it.

It was only another twenty minutes before she was sitting down at the formal dining table and being served the most delicious meal she’d ever eaten. Everything was rich and flavorful. Was there something he wasn’t good at? He was a doctor, a professor, a musician, and an excellent cook? She couldn’t live up to this… 

“That was delicious, Erik,” she said, following him to sit at the couch. 

“I’m glad,” he said. The fireplace was on, warming the space to a comfortable temperature despite the cold wind outside. 

Christine curled her legs up and hesitantly leaned into Erik’s side. Perfect. This was perfect. His hands were instantly in her curls, his arm holding her close. “You’re beautiful, Christine,” he whispered in her ear. She smiled and looked up at him.

Without any hesitation on his end, he kissed her. Her lips tasted of wine and whatever lipgloss she’d quickly reapplied after eating. Her hand was on his cheek, savoring the soft moment. A loving kiss. Unhurried and sweet and tender.

When they broke apart, he looked down at her face, tilting her chin up slightly. “What are you thinking of?” he asked. His thumb stroked her jaw, which made her eyelids flutter shut for a moment.

“Of you,” she answered.

“That’s rather vague.”

Color came to her cheeks, a high red making her eyes even brighter blue. “I’m… I’m thinking about what you said on our first date. About if I had any… sexual experiences.” 

“And?”

“You know the answer was no. I’m a virgin. I was just imagining… us. You. Me.” She couldn’t bring her eyes to meet his gaze. This was ridiculous. She was sitting around imagining him and her in the bedroom, and it had only been a week. That was too fast wasn’t it? 

“Would you like that?”

His words were a hook in her stomach, tugging at her insides. Her eyes snapped up to him. Was this an offer? She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and quickly stopped. This was her romance novel moment, and there was no way she was going to be the Lip-Biting-Cliche! Erik had noticed though. Of course he had. He noticed everything, and his thumb moved to brush over her bottom lip.

“I need a verbal answer, Christine.”

Tug. Tug. Tug.

“Yes.”

The word left her lips before she could think. Yes, it had only been a week that they’d spoken about their feelings and gone on dates, but she’d fantasized about this man since August. For nearly a month he had been the image in her head at night. Whether it was simply a fantasy she had in her head, or toy in her hand, it had still been his name on her lips. 

Erik’s own lips quirked up into that crooked smile, and his hand moved from her chin to the side of her neck, holding her there. “Then, I believe we can continue this upstairs in a more comfortable place.”

She nodded and shakily stood. When had her legs gone to jello? This wasn’t something she felt uncertain about, yet her body was shaking. He apparently didn’t mind, as he placed a hand on the small of her back, and helped guide her up the staircase. If her mind wasn’t fuzzing over, she might had commented how beautiful the curved stairs were, or how grand the chandelier hanging in the entryway was; but her mind  _ was _ fuzzing over, and she was only aware of how she could feel the heat of his hand through her jumpsuit. 

The room he led her to was large and just as immaculately decorated, in dark blues and wood tones. The four poster bed was something out of her dreams, and there was a hope chest at the foot of the bed with blue velvet cushions on top. She didn’t realize the lock on it, and if she had, she might have asked what it was for. 

“Christine?” She turned to look up at him. “Are you sure you want this?”

She nodded, then remembered what he said about verbal answers. “Yes. Yes I want this.”

Erik kissed her again, one hand on the back of her head and the other traveling to find the zipper at her back. She kissed back, her own hands resting on his chest. He was muscled. She could feel the toned muscles under his shirt and as her hands drifted to his biceps, she let out a soft whimper. He was _ strong.  _ And that in itself was beyond attractive. Smart. Strong. Sexy. 

Erik finally found the hidden zipper and in one swift motion, the top of her jumpsuit was pushed off of her shoulders. Christine was suddenly grateful she had at least put on a matching set of underwear. It wasn’t lingerie by any means, but the black bra had a little lace to it, as did the black panties. Compared to what Meg was always picking out on their shopping days, it was rather tame. “Vanilla,” as Meg would say. 

He did not seem to find her underwear vanilla though. His eyes roamed over every inch of exposed skin like a predator sizing up his prey. Or a doctor examining his patient. The idea of him in his lab coat, looking at her like that? These panties were done for. Christine knew he was about to discover how wet he already made her before the idea of sex was on the table. Now she was practically soaking.

“Stunning,” Erik finally said. He helped Christine step out of the outfit before guiding her hands to his shirt. He watched as her delicate -and rather shaky- fingers undid the buttons. Then she pulled off his undershirt, letting her own eyes linger on his chest and abdomen and arms, now all exposed to her in the soft lights of the room. It was then she noticed the candles strewn around and the dimmed lights.

Erik followed her attention and shrugged. “I was perhaps a little optimistic about tonight.”

Christine laughed. He’d wanted her first time to be memorable and special and romantic. Her mouth covered his again, and she let herself finally run her fingers through those raven dark waves. Thick and soft and silky between her fingers. She was practically pressed against him, his knees hitting the back of the bed, and in this position, she could just feel the edge of his erection. That shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.

The kiss broke as her fingers fumbled at his belt. He took over after the second time the leather slipped from her fingers. The sound of the belt sliding through the loops sent another tug through her insides, and he carefully set it on the chest before pushing down his dress pants.

Now they were just as exposed to each other. Underwear and nothing else. Christine looked up at him, lips slightly parted. “I… You’ll have to be patient with me,” she said.

“Of course,” he said. Without warning he lifted her up by the back of her thighs and set her gently on the bed.

Christine watched him climb over her, and gasped as his lips found her jaw. From there they climbed to her ear, behind it. She made quite the lewd moan at a certain spot on her neck, and it took all of Erik’s willpower to not leave a mark there. Instead he continued his kisses until he was at the edge of her bra. Without needing him needing to ask, Christine reached behind her, somewhat uncomfortably since she was laying down, and unclasped her bra. Erik tossed the black fabric behind him. They’d find it later. Instead, he wanted to focus on her breasts.

Every kiss and brush of teeth made Christine lose her breath. Her heart rate was erratic, and he was barely getting started. She’d never known just  _ how _ sensitive her nipples were until Erik Destler’s lips were around them. Whatever nipple wasn’t receiving his lips was being pinched and tugged by his fingers. Her own fingers were in his hair, and every kiss and movement worked out a moan or whimper or whine from her throat. When he pulled away, she let out a whine that shot right down his length.

“I bet you could cum with just that,” he said breathily, petting right between her breasts with the back of his fingers. “Just my lips on those gorgeous breasts of yours.”

Christine had no words. Her mind was a fog of arousal and him. Erik chuckled and pulled off her panties, rather shocked to find she had shaved recently. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only one with hopes for tonight. Christine let out a whimper as she reached for his boxers.

“Christine. Use your words,” he said, taking her hands in his.

“I need you,” she whispered.

Erik smirked and moved to hover over her. He moved one of her hands to cup his length over his boxers. “Do you feel that? What you’ve done to me? Just those pretty little sounds you make did this.”

Christine smiled, almost proud of herself. “And what are you going to do now?” she challenged.

Erik hummed and pushed his boxers down his thighs, kicking them back to wherever the rest of their clothes had ended up. He watched Christine’s lust-filled eyes drift down to his cock. 

“My eyes are up here, Christine,” he said, teasing slightly.

She quickly looked up at him. “You’re… big.”

He was realizing she wasn’t very articulate when her brain was in a lust fog, and he found it rather cute. Quickly he reached to his bedside table and grabbed a condom. He disliked using them, but he had no idea if Christine was on anything, and he certainly didn’t want any surprises. Christine watched as he rolled the condom over himself, glad he hadn’t asked for her to do it. She couldn’t remember how to do that. Health class had been a long time ago. 

“Is it gonna hurt?”

“It might. If it does, let me know. I want you to enjoy it.”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His hand drifted down, testing how wet she was. He had lube if they needed. Though he was pleasantly surprised with how wet he found her. “You enjoyed my kisses didn’t you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Mhm.”

Pleased with how ready she was, he wiped his fingers on his cock before slowly lining himself up. “I’m going to go slow, okay? Just remember to breathe. I’m right here. Let me know if anything hurts.”

“Okay,” Christine said, giving an eager nod. 

At her okay, Erik began to slowly push in. And God did she feel heavenly. Warm and wet and _ tight.  _ He kept his eyes on her face though, watching her eyes widen and her mouth drop open.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah. Yes. I’m fine.”

“Breathe.”

“I am.”

He moved a little more and her eyes drifted shut this time, and instead she let out a moan. His chuckle that resulted made her smile. When he finally stopped moving, she was smiling taking hitched breaths. “Deep breaths, Christine.”

“You’re just… wow.”

“Wow?”

“Mhm.” Before he could tease her for her word choice, she was kissing him again, and he let her. He kissed back, as if she held all the light in the world. She was beautiful and smart and snarky, and here she was in his bed, trusting him and kissing him. It was another thirty seconds before she gave him a nod, an okay to move.

Yet again he had to practice restraint. He moved slowly, as to not hurt her. Now and again her face would pinch, and he’d pull back, but it seemed she was enjoying herself. He was definitely enjoying himself. One of Christine’s hands found his hair again, and every now and again gave a tiny tug.

Neither of them lasted long. For Christine, she was already halfway to her own orgasm with only his mouth on her breasts. And with Erik? Well, it had been a long time since he’d been buried in someone. It felt just as amazing as he last remembered. Erik gave tiny thrusts as she came down from her orgasm, grunting as he finished. The kisses Christine peppered across his jaw made him smile, and he laid down next to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. “I need a verbal answer, remember.”

“Mhm. I’m okay. That was… great.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “We’ll go clean you up in a minute, okay? Whenever you’re ready.”

Just as he promised, a few minutes later he helped her up and sat her at the edge of a gorgeous soaking tub in the en suite bathroom. He cleaned himself quickly first and pulled on clean boxers before grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in hot water. He carefully cleaned Christine before scooping her up and laying her back in the bed again. 

“Do you want any water?” he asked, placing a blanket over her shoulders.

Christine nodded. “Water would be nice.”

He wished he had thought to grab a bottle before they came upstairs. “I just have to go downstairs. I’ll be right back.” Christine gave a nod and waited patiently. When he returned with a bottle of water, she held her arms up to him. Without needing any prompting, Erik climbed into the bed and pulled Christine into his lap. She curled up happily, sipping the water he had opened for her. 

This was what Erik had missed the most. While sex was great, especially when of the kinky variety, it was the after care he enjoyed. He enjoyed caring for people. Christine was so sweet and tiny. And she curled up so perfectly against his chest.

“So…” she finally said, the fog clearing from her head. “That was… nice.”

He nodded. “I liked it, too.”

She smiled up at him. “We’ll have to do that again.”

Erik laughed at that and squeezed her tightly, adjusting the blankets around her. “Naturally.”

Christine smiled and rested against his chest again. “Can I stay here tonight?” she whispered. 

Erik nodded, rubbing her back over the blanket. “Of course. I’ll be right here.” He laid down, covering them both with the comforter before placing a soft kiss to her head. “I’m right here. I’ll take care of you.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 8/29: Hello everyone. No I have not forgotten about this. This week was my first week back at school so I haven't had much writing time. I have the first few scenes of the next chapter written, and let me tell you, it'll be a long one. Lots of feelings. Some sexy. Some tension. Please be patient with me, and hopefully soon, I'll have a publishing schedule so you all won't have to wait unknowingly. Until then! 
> 
> <3 Liv


	5. The Proposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hi everyone! I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you enjoy the chapter!! Any comments or feedback is appreciated, and I promise I won't make you guys wait so long again.
> 
> TW: cancer mention
> 
> NSFW: oral sex

Erik would typically consider himself a morning person. He liked being up early and having his cup of coffee long before anyone else reasonable got up on the weekends. So when he woke around 6:00 Sunday morning he wasn’t at all surprised. The change in routine, however, came from Christine. She was curled on her side, in a large t-shirt he had found for her to wear last night. Her curls were in a careful bun, and her lips parted ever so slightly as she slept. 

He had remembered her falling asleep on his chest last night. Daring not to move, he had answered work emails from his phone one-handed while his other arm wrapped around Christine and rubbed her back soothingly. She was still against his chest now, her cheek against his bare skin. 

Pajamas. She needed a set of pajamas over here if this was going to continue. Maybe this was him thinking too far ahead, but it was a nice thought. A set of pajamas in his house that belonged to Christine.

He couldn’t risk getting up and moving without waking her, and he didn’t want to be rude, so Erik instead settled on adjusting the blankets up around her shoulders. The sky outside was a pale blue that spoke of sunrise being soon. He could hear the birds singing through the windows already. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long before Christine stirred slightly. She hummed and moved off of his chest to hug a pillow instead. He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her temple. A smile tugged at her lips, but she didn’t open her eyes. He was glad to see that she wasn’t regretting their actions last night. At least, not that he could see. 

He stroked back a few tiny curls that had escaped the bun, his eyes just taking her in. Soft and sleepy and sweet. Of all the versions of Christine he had seen so far, this was his favorite. “What do you want for breakfast, sweetheart?” 

It was no shock that Christine was in her spot on Monday early on. Erik smiled seeing the pile of curls, and he couldn’t help but remember how they felt through his fingers as he held her. What was a shock was the blond boy sitting next to her, smiling and talking. 

They hadn’t discussed if they were partners or anything, but seeing this boy flirting shamelessly with Christine made him angry. Erik knew it was ridiculous to feel this way. The boy - Erik believed his name was Raoul - would have no way of knowing about Christine and Erik.

Instead of yelling or doing something stupid, Erik went to his desk, acting as if he wasn’t eavesdropping. At least he had dropped off Christine’s latte before. The hazelnut latte had been waiting for her at her normal seat when she entered, and he had placed it there as soon as he had unlocked the room.

“So, I was wondering, if you maybe want to head out for lunch today?”

Erik noticed Christine’s eyes dart around. It took quite a bit of willpower to not laugh. 

“I… uh…” 

Christine Daae at a loss for words. Erik was impressed by Raoul’s ability, as it had taken him making love to her to get her speechless. 

“Let me think about that? I don’t know if Meg and I have any plans and I’d feel bad if we did. But I’ll let you know?” she finally answered.

Raoul nodded and got out of the chair. “Okay. Well, let me know. I’m… here for you Christine.”

It was obvious Christine had told him  _ something  _ as there seemed to be pity in his eyes. Erik took note of that as Raoul moved back to his normal seat. Erik hadn’t taken much notice of the boy in his class. He was very middle of the pack. Sat in the middle, averaged a C, turned things in on time and didn’t really stand out. Raoul deChagney blended into the rest of the class, whereas his Christine was a rose in a field of daisies; unique, beautiful, and irresistible. 

With more students flowing into the lecture hall, Erik didn’t have a moment to speak to Christine. Her eyes were on him the entire time, though. He could feel that gaze the entire class. Despite the inner workings of the skeletal system, Christine was standing there in his mind. It wasn’t until he dismissed the class that he was able to get a word out to her.

“So, any lunch plans with Meg?” he asked. She had spoken of her best friend to him, and he found it rather amusing to hear the small stories of the eccentric blonde. It was good for Christine to have a friend like that; or rather, good for anyone to have a friend like that. He had Nadir. Given, he needed to give the man a call soon. It had been far too long since his friend moved away. 

Christine groaned in a way that gave away her feelings and her plans. 

“Does he know you? Or was he just being annoying? Because I can make his life slightly less convenient here, you know.”

“No no, that’s unfair. He…” Christine scrunched her nose, not really wanting to admit to Erik who Raoul was. But he’d find out soon enough, wouldn’t he? “He’s kind of my ex? We dated a little my junior year of highschool, and we were close before then. It was kind of a two years of flirting and one year of dating. He was a senior”

Erik nodded. Christine was gathering her things and shoving them in her bag. “And he went to college and broke up with me after his first week. No warning, no attempt to be nice. He also did it over the phone, despite the fact he was back in town for the labor day weekend.”

“So, not someone you  _ wanted _ to reconnect with.”

“He was my first boyfriend, Erik. Part of me will always wish I could be friends with him. But… My dad never really liked him as a boyfriend. He liked him as a _ boy _ friend, space between boy and friend. And with the way he broke up with me, being his friend was more painful and far too much effort than it was worth.”

Christine was standing now, letting Erik get a good look at her outfit. Her wardrobe was something he rather liked. Soft and feminine and sweet. Today was a sky blue sweater with jeans and gold jewelry in her ears and around her neck. He made another mental note that she liked jewelry. 

“So… no lunch plans?” Erik asked.

Christine smiled. “Unless you’d like to go somewhere, Doctor Destler.”

Erik hummed as she called him that. “I’ll see you in my office after my Freshman lecture.”

Christine was absolutely mortified by Raoul’s question, then more so by Erik’s questions about the question, then there was the mortification that she had  _ almost  _ let slip that she was seeing someone. Had that happened, there would have been far too many questions and accusations after said questions. She hated lying. Deciding to not answer a question or to answer with a partial truth wasn’t lying. However, there was no avoiding the question, “who are you dating?” when that person was your professor.

The sciences building was nice and modern looking, and Christine found herself sitting in the student lounge there, her notes in front of her and her phone in her hand. The message to Raoul wasn’t a total lie.

_ I have plans for lunch. Sorry. Maybe some other time. _

But it definitely wasn’t a truth either. Raoul brought up far too many painful memories. After all, it had only been a few days after their breakup that her father was diagnosed.

It had been a terrible four years since that diagnosis. 

It wasn’t long before Erik came out of his classroom, heading to his office. Christine waited until he was there before following. “Let’s order something and go back to your place,” she suggested.

Erik turned, brows raised slightly. “Okay… is there a reason?”

“I have something to tell you… and it’s rather private.”

With an understanding nod, Erik grabbed the last few things he needed before grabbing his keys. “Let’s go then.”

The food was delicious, but Christine was far too occupied to enjoy it fully. Her mind was reeling with how exactly to tell him. They were sitting at his dining table again, and he had finished his food long ago, as had she. Silence was something Christine was used to, but not this silence. Silence with an expectation to be filled. She finally took a deep breath.

“My dad is sick,” she said.

Her eyes glanced up to him, and he was looking at her. His full attention. With another steadying breath, she looked back at the table. She was going to cry regardless, but she wanted to keep her eyes focused on a neutral point. At least that way she wouldn’t immediately be sobbing.

“A few days after Raoul broke up with me, my father received word that there were abnormal cells in his blood. And not too long after that we were told he had leukemia. It wasn’t far along, but it also wasn’t new. So… so he started treatment. Um… I was tested to see if I could be a bone marrow donor if it ever came to that. It hurt like hell, but it was for my father. It’s been four years, and we’re just waiting. Treatments and medications and more treatments. He’s in the cancer institute in Boston. I try and visit him when I can but it’s hard. No trains stop through here and it’s an expensive ride, and I hate driving and a drive-share is so expensive for that trip.” There were tears in her eyes already, but she managed to not let them fall. “It’s just really hard. Because I can’t see him, but I call him all the time…” 

She felt Erik’s fingers on her cheeks, wiping away the tears that had finally spilled down her cheeks. Whatever was holding her together shattered. Christine moved to his arms. It had only been two nights ago she fell asleep against his chest, and now she was sobbing in his arms. He held her, though, rocking her gently and rubbing her back. He didn’t say a word, letting her cry.

It was five minutes before she could breathe in a semi-normal rhythm. Under her cheek, his heart thrummed along. The sound was strong and steady, and Christine found herself fascinated by it for a few moments. This sound was uniquely his. Yes, it was a normal rhythm (or rather she assumed it was), but it was his; this was the heart that kept him alive. She couldn’t help but be grateful that he was. Raoul never would have held her like this, even now. 

“Tell me about your father,” Erik finally spoke.

“What about him?”

“What does he do for a living? What are his hobbies? Things like that.”

Christine smiled softly at that, readjusting her cheek against his collarbone. Erik pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. They spent the next half hour like that, curled together and speaking about Charles Daae. A violinist for many orchestras who liked cooking shows and read Dan Brown novels over and over because “they’re just interesting.” Who took his daughter to Mass every Sunday in a beautiful dress and told her stories using a flashlight and with the blinds drawn. Every story warmed Christine’s heart, and by extension, Erik’s. Erik listened intently, saying a silent prayer for Charles. That he’d recover and one day, maybe the two men could meet. Erik just wanted the father and daughter to have a happy ending. 

Christine spent the rest of the day in Erik’s house. He had offered to drive her home, but she found being close to him therapeutic. Besides, she had only online classes to do the rest of the day, and one lecture tomorrow. She had purposefully chosen the online classes hoping to be spending more time in Boston that semester… 

Erik and her sat on the couch together, working side by side. Christine, after much reassurance from Erik that he did not need it, was working on Erik’s laptop while he graded quizzes. There was soft piano music playing from some hidden speaker that Erik had turned on. Overall, it was cozy. Curled up on his couch, listening to his pen scratching paper, feeling his hand every now and again brush her thigh and give a reassuring squeeze. 

“I was thinking about making soup for dinner. Have a favorite?”

“I’m invited to dinner?” Christine asked, looking over to him. 

“Naturally.”

Christine hummed. “Italian Wedding soup is my personal favorite… but only if I get to help you cook.”

Christine quickly discovered that Erik loved to cook and was rather fun to cook with. He wore an apron as he worked; a plain gray color though it looked expensive over his already expensive clothes. Christine found herself thinking it was both cute and sexy, two things she didn’t think could occupy the same space and yet did. He was destroying quite a few of her expectations. 

His kitchen was large and modern; a chef’s dream. Cooking in it was something Christine felt rather proud of. She’d never have a kitchen as nice as this, but she could cook with Erik and pretend.

The soup was delightful, and they ate at the table as they spoke about less serious matters. School, movies, hobbies. Christine wasn’t shocked to learn Erik was an avid reader, but was shocked to learn he wrote his own books. Mostly medical. He was currently working on a textbook with a few other doctors. She listened intently as he spoke, nodding and taking spoonfuls of soup. Once the bowls were empty and placed in the dishwasher, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. 

“Your lips are addictive, Christine.” he whispered, not pulling away far so his lips brushed hers with every word.

“Yours are pretty irresistible as well.”

Erik hummed and kissed her again, a little firmer and more demanding. “I didn’t say irresistible. I said addictive. I crave you, Christine. You sit there in front of me in little sun dresses and blouses that I can see through. It takes so much willpower to not devour you in that classroom.” His lips moved to her jaw and her throat, his lips right over her pulse… 

“Remember this?”

“Mhm.”

“Spell it for me, Christine.”

“C-A-R-O-T-I-D.”

Another kiss to the pulse, a brush of teeth, and he was moving to her jaw again and up behind her ear. Every kiss and touch sent a rush through her, which inevitably settled between her thighs. Her panties were definitely a lost cause already. Erik placed his hands on her hips, lifting her quickly to sit on the large island counter. She easily could have laid down on it. The added height meant she didn’t need to lean up to reach his lips, and he didn’t have to hunch down to reach hers. 

His hands moved under her sweater, touching bare skin. A shiver ran down her spine, sending goosebumps down her arms. He was quickly pulling the blue garment over her head, and he set it down carefully on the counter next to her. 

“Christine?”

His voice pulled her from a fog that was just beginning to settle over her brain. She felt it retreat as she focused on him once more, not his touch or what he may do next. It was a quiet few seconds before she realized he was waiting for her words.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to make you see stars. Is that okay?”

Her heart leapt at those words and she nodded. “Yes.” 

Erik’s smirk sent another wave of anticipation through her, and she watched his eyes dip to her bra. It was the same sky blue as her sweater, and her breasts looked rather fantastic in them. It was one of her favorites since it wasn’t just pretty, but also rather comfortable; or rather as comfortable as pretty and lacey bras got. His fingers brushed along the lace on the edge of the cups.

“This is rather pretty, Christine.” 

She nodded. “I-I liked it… It’s my favorite…” 

He pulled one cup down, letting her breast fall out slowly. “One of these days I’m going to take all the time I want with these,” he said softly, moving to cup her breast. His thumb ran over her nipple, watching it tighten in anticipation. He gave a tiny pinch, eliciting a squeak from Christine, before fixing the bra again. 

Christine moved to press her lips to his again. His hands moved down her sides to her hips before finding the button of her jeans. There was a tiny bit of hesitation, and she placed her own fingers on the button, undoing it herself. 

“Rather impatient, aren’t you?” 

“I can’t help it. I’m rather curious as to what you have planned.”

Erik smirked. His hands pushed down her jeans, Christine automatically lifting her hips for him. Once they were on the ground, his eyes dipped to her panties. Even his gaze made her heart flutter and her legs spread just a little more. Erik ran a single finger up her panties, pressing lightly on a dark, wet spot that he could see.

“Impatient and rather excited,” he amended.

She nodded. Words were escaping her now. She  _ needed _ him; more than she needed oxygen. Erik could see the look and luckily didn’t keep her waiting long. His fingers hooked around the simple panties and pulled them down to join her jeans before pushing her hips back slightly, and guiding her to lie down. The marble was cold against her flushed skin.

Christine felt as his hands moved from her hips down her thighs. Erik moved to kiss just at her knees, slowly moving his lips up her inner thighs. Suddenly, his plans became very clear. Every kiss sent a small jolt of warmth through her, and once he’d made his way up one leg, he began at the knee on the other. He was so agonizingly close, Christine couldn’t help but let out a whimper.

“Oh, poor thing,” Erik said before moving to kiss just above her clit. “Do you need something?”

“Y-You!” Christine quickly answered. “You. Please.”

With just that little push, Erik moved to start devouring Christine. His tongue was fast and quick, lapping up her slit with confidence. Her moans echoed around the kitchen, and he moved to suck on her clit instead, pushing two fingers inside of her. Every movement was purposeful, and he knew exactly what to do to push Christine over the edge. 

Her first orgasm came quickly, and he let her hips buck and move. Her cries were a symphony in his ears. But he was not done with her. He continued, barely giving her time to relax from the high. Her second orgasm, he pinned her hips down and did not let up as she convulsed around his fingers.

Part of him wanted to keep her on that counter, eating her until she had no more orgasms to give him, but instead he pulled away after licking her slit one last time. Her eyes were glossy and hazy, obviously happily in some sort of fog. Blue met gold, and he licked his fingers clean.

A gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth helped pull her back ever so slightly. He hadn’t been joking. Christine had seen stars as he worked on her. Dancing stars that exploded with her orgasms. And the image of him licking his fingers clean of her would definitely be burned in the back of her eyelids for a while. That nice fuzzy feeling had come over her again during it, and she let it sweep her away. There were no worries or anxieties in that fog. There was no thinking, just feeling, and she loved it. Erik, so far, had been the only one able to produce this; though if it was just the experience of sex in general or his own talent she didn’t know. 

“You taste divine, my love,” he whispered before pulling back. He sat her up slowly and squeezed her hands. “I’m right here. I’m just going to grab you a bottle of water okay?”

Christine gave a nod and looked at her panties and jeans on the floor. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you dressed again soon,” he promised.

Erik grabbed a cold bottle of water and opened it for her. Christine hadn’t realized how dry her throat was until the first few sips were past her lips. She drank half of the bottle before setting it down. Erik had gone to grab a wash cloth quickly, and was wetting it with warm water.

He was gentle as he cleaned her, apologizing if it was a little too tender.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I… I kind of like that feeling.”

Erik hummed. “Noted.”

Within a few minutes he was helping her step back into her panties and her jeans and helping pull her sweater back over her head. All composed once more, Christine went to grab her purse and phone. 

“I should head home,” she said. “I’ve got a few things to do around the apartment. Um… thank you. For that.”

“It was my pleasure, Christine.”

She laughed at that, unsure if he meant it as a play on words. His smile graced her again.

“I’ll grab my keys.”

Christine waited for him, watching as he scribbled something on a notepad before grabbing his keys. With a hand at her back, he led her outside to the car. The drive home was nice. She spoke about tutoring and he listened, asking questions here and there about what it was like. Once they were parked outside her apartment, he again insisted on walking her up. As she unlocked the door, Erik pulled out the piece of paper, folded carefully, and held it between two fingers at her eye level.

“Christine… I want you to look up what is on this paper. But only open it once you’re settled in for the night.” She looked up at his eyes and nodded. 

“Oh. Okay.”

“Once you have, think it over for a day or so. And all I need to hear is a yes or a no. If it is yes, we can speak more. If it is no, I won’t bring it up again.”

“You’re kind of scaring me. But okay. I promise.”

She plucked the paper and pressed a kiss to his lips. He gladly kissed back, cupping her cheek as he did. “Make yourself some tea and get in pajamas, okay? Settle in for the night.”

She nodded. “I will. Thank you for tonight. I really needed this. Just time with you. To tell you everything.”

“The orgasms helped I hope.”

“Oh definitely,” she laughed. She pushed open her door and smiled. “Goodnight, Erik.”

“Goodnight, Christine.”

He waited until he heard the last click of her lock before leaving, and then began waiting for that simple yes or no. 

Inside the apartment, Christine kicked off her shoes and set down her purse and backpack. She was exhausted from crying, from being up early, and from the orgasms. Within five minutes she was boiling water for tea and in her favorite pajama set. The folded paper sat on the counter next to her. She technically was settling in for the night, wasn’t she? Without overthinking it, she grabbed the slip and opened it. Erik’s handwriting was as pretty and neat as always, which was always jarring. Weren’t doctors supposed to have messy handwriting? The words, however, were the more jarring thing on the paper.

_ Kinkeducation.com  _

_ dd/lg _

_ dom/sub _

_ Bdsm _

Her eyes went wide and her heart began to race. A yes or a no… “Oh, Christ.” 


	6. The Phone Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: again, I apologize for it being late. School takes a lot out of me, but thank you for your patience!! I will be having a small one-shot from this universe posted on Halloween for certain. comments always appreciated!! I love you all!!! <3
> 
> NSFW phone sex and masturbation

Christine set down two bottles of iced tea and sat in her favorite spot on the couch. Meg had come over and they’d done homework together. That was until Christine couldn’t keep the thoughts to herself and told Meg. Everything. Raoul. The dinner. The confession. The counter (this part she said with red cheeks and while looking at the floor). All the way to the slip of paper she had kept tucked in her wallet and hadn’t looked at since.

Meg had taken it all rather well, all things considered. Christine knew Meg wasn’t a judgemental person, and this was a true test of that. 

“It isn’t my business what kinky shit he’s into, and by extension what you may be into,” she had said. From there, Meg had insisted they look up what he had written. Not one to turn down help, especially when feeling overwhelmed, Christine said yes.

An hour was spent scrolling through website after website, clicking on articles, reading blog posts, and even watching a few vlogs. Most of the content was educational, a few were more personal accounts, and many were stressing what a “bad dom” looked like and what was abuse. Meg had begun taking notes, creating a list of bad traits and good traits. And the entire time, Christine was just silent, taking in the information. All she knew of this kink was from _Fifty Shades of Grey_ , and she had chosen to not read or watch that (apparently that was a good thing according to five separate blog posts). 

After ordering some pizza, they’d returned to their research. 

Christine opened her own iced tea and sipped it. She hadn’t spoken at all except when suggesting dinner. Even then her sentences had been short.

“Okay,” Meg said, sitting back and looking at the lists she’d made. “We’ve looked it up, we’ve taken notes. Actually  _ I  _ have taken notes for you, you are very welcome. Now you’ve got to actually consider it.”

Christine sighed. “I know.”

“And?”

Christine shrugged. “I’m new to the whole… sex thing. I know I really don’t like some of those blogs we saw. Like… I don’t want a collar. I’m not a dog.”

Meg nodded. “So that’s a limit you set.”

“How do you know about this stuff?”

“I’ve read the most  _ disgusting _ novels that would send my mother to the grave, Christine. I’ve learned.” 

Christine laughed at that and nodded. “Fair enough,” she said. She sighed and glanced at Meg’s loopy cursive. “I… what would you do?”

It took a few seconds for Meg to reply. She took a deep breath, sighed, and nodded. “I’d try it. See if I liked it. And if I didn’t… I could always say it wasn’t for me. And if he doesn’t take no as an answer then he’s an asshole. You will not date assholes on my watch.”

There was a smile on the brunette’s face after that. Meg was right. She could at least try it. But there were definitely thoughts she had already. Meg had already pulled up a show on Netflix to watch, declaring it was time to shift gears. Christine’s mind stayed with the information.

Her phone felt heavy in her hands as she opened Erik’s messages. Just one word. That’s all she had to type. Without thinking too hard, Christine typed out her reply and hit  _ send _ . There was no taking it back. That “yes” sat there for a few minutes.

Five minutes after she’d sent it, Erik had opened it. The little read notification taunted her. Then the three dots.  _ Oh no.  _ He was typing. Christine half expected it to be a demand or something similar.

[TEXT]: I’m glad to hear that. We will discuss more after dinner next Friday. 

That was it? They’d discuss it after dinner on Friday. What about tomorrow? After class, over lunch, on the phone! She needed to speak to him about it ASAP. Then again, he had said she needed to think it over. Perhaps he was giving her time… Time to think about her answer and what she liked and didn’t like. 

Once Meg had left, Christine began making a list of her own.  _ Limits _ . 

Erik didn’t look at her during the lecture. Christine hadn’t realized how much she had enjoyed his glances and smirks and nods of approval until he wasn’t giving her them. He said her name once when she volunteered to answer a question about the reading, and that was it. 

There still had been a hazelnut latte waiting for her at her seat with a small note next to it.

_ I’ll pick you up at 5:00 on Friday. I have a meeting after class today.  _

So that meant that she wasn’t going to see him after class. That made her… angry. It took a few seconds to figure out the feeling. But she was angry. He’d dropped a huge bomb on her on Monday, only to refuse talking about it until Friday?! 

So, when Raoul had asked if he could sit next to her, she’d nodded. Maybe that was why there was a lack of eye contact. It was too noticeable with a boy right next to her, but still. 

“Want to grab lunch?” Roaul asked as he set his laptop into his bag. 

Christine was still collecting her pens and highlighters, preferring her notes handwritten. She glanced at him, then to Erik, as if checking the assignment on the board. It was obvious Erik was listening. He’d stilled his movements at the podium, and his gaze was fixed very firmly downward.

“Not really,” Christine answered. She looked at Raoul. “Listen. You’re a great friend. And we had a great relationship in high school. But… we’re different people now. I don’t want you thinking that I’ll always be your…  _ your _ Lotte. I’m changed, and I’m happy with who I am now. I’m sorry if I led you on at all these few weeks, but I can’t Raoul. I’m really sorry.” 

Raoul’s eyes were wide and his cheeks as red as the dress she’d worn that day. Now she felt terrible. All he had done was ask her to go to lunch, not a date! And she’d said that.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“No no I get it, Christine. I do. And you’re right,” he said, nodding. “Are… are you seeing anyone?”

Christine just gave a single nod. “I am. And I’m really happy.”

“Good. I’m glad. I’ll see you around then, Christine.”

Raoul left, leaving Christine standing there with her bags feeling rather like an ass. She glanced at Erik, who was setting his laptop away. “You’re happy in the relationship?” Erik asked, as if he wasn’t who she was in the relationship with.

Christine grabbed the empty latte cup. “I am. I just wish that he wouldn’t ignore me sometimes and make me feel as if I did something wrong.” 

“Perhaps he finds you distracting during important times. Like lectures or meetings.”

“Right. _ I’m _ distracting.” Christine huffed and walked out of the lecture hall. Distracting?! She was the one who was distracting?! He was! With his cheekbones and dark waves and crooked smile. He was nothing but distracting. While she left, she swore she heard him chuckling to himself.

Christine found a spot to sit in the library, deciding she wasn’t very hungry and had quite a bit of work to do for her education classes. Why had those begun to feel like her extra classes? She was going to be a teacher. Her A&P class was the extra. The one science she needed to pass. She pulled out her notes and her old laptop. She had once been saving for a new laptop, but lots of money went to the apartment and to visiting Boston when she could. While the account her father had was far from empty, Christine was just frugal with her money. It was far better to save than spend in her mind.

Education. Focus on the homework. Focus on the assignments.

That was hard to do when Erik was in her mind, chuckling at her. By the time she finished the assignment and got it turned in online, she was starving and regretting not grabbing lunch. 

Christine checked her phone as she walked to her apartment and frowned. Erik. 

[TEXT]: You are terrible at storming out and look far too cute when you’re pouting.

Christine’s thumbs flew across the screen. Before she could hit send another message came up.

[TEXT]: I’ll call you tonight, okay? I’m sorry if you were upset with me earlier. 

At least it was an apology… 

Erik called around 7:00, as Christine was just warming up some leftovers in the microwave. 

“Hi,” she said, setting her phone to speaker.

“Hello. How’s your evening so far?”

“Boring. Homework. Assignments. Lesson plans. I did watch an episode of some show on HGTV.” Christine punched in the timer on her microwave and hit start.

“Did you like the renovation they did?”

“I did. But it was too modern. I like traditional style homes more.”

“As do I. Though I’m sure you noticed from my house.

“I did.”

There was a long pause of silence after that.

“Christine?”

“Hmm.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you with my comment earlier. It was my attempt to remain professional again during class. I was rather fearful that some student would notice despite the comments and glances being mostly platonic during class. My own paranoia if you will,” Erik said.

Christine leaned against the counter as she listened and she smiled softly. “I forgive you. I like that you’re able to admit your faults and such.”

“I am incredibly flawed, I’ll openly admit that. For example, I realize now I probably scared you witless by making you research on your own.”

“Actually, about that… I did the research with my friend Meg. She was the one who convinced me to say yes, since I can always say no after… but I have a few questions. Ones that can’t wait until Friday.”

She heard a bit of shuffling on the line and then the clinking of glass. She could imagine him pouring himself a drink and settling into the armchair in his office. “Ask away,” he finally said.

Inhale. Exhale. “I liked the… um…”

“Take your time.”

Christine nodded, despite being on the phone. “I like the idea of the, uh, the daddy kink. But I can’t call you that…”

“That’s fine. We’ll discuss names on Friday. And limits. I’m not going to make you dive in head first. We will start small and you’ll be able to stop whenever you want.”

Christine let out a large sigh at that, which elicited a chuckle from Erik. It was then the microwave went off.

“What are you making?”

“Um… some leftovers.”

Erik sighed. “Okay, one moment.” She heard him typing a bit and then heard a hum of confirmation. “In twenty to thirty minutes there should be more adequate food at your door,” he said.

“Erik!”

“Christine.”

The way he said her name made her stomach flip. 

“I know you care about what you put in your body, and so do I.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She pulled out the leftovers that in all fairness were probably disgusting and tossed then into the trash.

Erik began asking about the rest of her day, and she explained her other classes and her assignments to him. For what it was worth, Erik was an amazing listener. He let her speak about anything and everything, every little anxiety or weird quirk. And he always had something nice to say afterwards.

Sure enough, twenty-five minutes later there was a knock at the door. She answered and graciously took the bag of food. “What did you order me?” she asked.

“Soup and salad from my favorite bistro,” he answered. 

“Thank you. It smells divine.”

She set up at her small dining room table that acted like a desk most days. Phone on speaker, food spread out. Erik took over the conversation as she ate. He spoke about his days at the practice he worked at part of the time. She kept forgetting that he did work with children as a pediatrician, that he wasn’t just a professor. Apparently he’d been roped into teaching adjunct a few years ago and fell in love with it. But he couldn’t bear to just stop being a doctor, so he’d split the time. 

By the time Christine could even think of saying goodnight, she was in her pajamas and under the covers in her bed. 

“Christine?”

“Hmmm?”

“I have a small question. You can say no.”

“Okay… what is it?” His tone made it seem like this was going to be more than just a small question.

“Would you pleasure yourself right now if I asked you to?”

Her heart stopped at those words and instantly there was a shot of heat between her legs. Masturbating was something she barely liked admitting that she did. She didn’t watch porn or have vibrators, it was just her and her imagination before she went to sleep usually. 

“Christine? I truly need a verbal answer this time. We are over the phone.”

She blinked herself back to thinking rationally, or as rationally as she could with him.

“Yes. Sorry. Yes, I-I would.”

She could practically hear his smirk on the other side of the phone. 

“Well first, take off your pajama bottoms but leave your panties on.”

Christine set her phone aside before shimmying out of the floral patterned lounge pants she was ready to sleep in. 

“Okay,” she said softly. 

“Just touch yourself, Christine. Your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, but don’t touch your clit or pussy yet. Understand?”

“Yes.” She set the phone on the pillow by her head and let her hand begin roaming. Up her sides, pushing up her tank top to teased at her nipples and squeeze her breasts. She let out a soft moan.

“Does it feel good?”

“Mhm,” she hummed.

“Verbal. Hums don’t count.”

Christine was going to go crazy. Her mind was beginning that delicious fogging over, where she was nothing but sensation and pleasure wrapped in a thoughtless bubble. Words were impossible! 

“Yes,” she finally answered.

“Good. Rub yourself through your panties. Imagine me teasing you, just as we walk in the door.”

The words themselves made her moan, and with no hesitation she went to begin rubbing her clit. Slowly. Not too fast or hard. She wanted this to last, but damn, if she wasn’t already half way to her orgasm. Thirty seconds later, after an adequate amount of moans and breathy sighs, he spoke again.

“Go ahead and slip your hand in your panties. Rub yourself. Enjoy it. Tell me how it feels. Imagine my fingers at your clit and my hand holding you against me.”

She moaned at the words once more. With the amount of teasing he’d done, which probably wasn’t nearly as long as she thought it was, she was soaking wet and it was easy to let the little nub slid through her fingers. The next moan she made was sharp and loud, shocked by the sudden wave of pleasure. It wasn’t long before she was crashing down, her orgasm making her legs shake and her breath stop. Her ears were ringing and once she could finally breathe normally, she pulled her hand from her panties.

“Good girl,” Erik cooed. “How was that?”

Christine hummed, letting herself float for a second before answering.

“Amazing.”

“I’m glad. When you’re ready go clean yourself up. I’ll stay on the line until you’re asleep, okay?”

“Okay… thank you.”

A soft chuckle.

“There is no need to thank me, my dear.”

After a few minutes, Christine got up, grabbing a new pair of panties and her pajama bottoms before running to the bathroom. She’d read somewhere once to always go to the bathroom after masturbating or having sex, and she was goingto live by that rule regardless if it was true of not. Erik probably knew. After cleaning up a bit, she washed her face and brushed her teeth and climbed back into bed.

“All cozy again?” Erik asked.

“Yeah. Thank you for staying on the phone with me for literal hours. And for the food. And the uh… phone sex?”

He laughed at that. “You’re very welcome, Christine. The thanks is appreciated.”

She smiled, curling up on her side. “Will I be sleeping over on Friday?” she asked.

“If you’d like.”

She pulled the covers up to her chin. “I’ll bring my pajamas. The ones with little avocados all over them.”

Erik laughed. “Oh I look forward to seeing you in that!”

His laugh was so sweet, and it made Christine giggle. After a moment of silence, he finally sighed. “Rest, Christine. I’ll stay on the line while you sleep.”

“Would… would you sing?” she asked quietly.

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

Never one to disappoint, Erik began to sing a soft lullaby to Christine. The phone wasn’t perfect, but his voice was angelic. Within minutes, Christine was fast asleep, imagining him behind her as he sang. Friday could not come soon enough.

  
  



	7. The Base Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Haha! Didn't make you wait too long for this one! No promises, but I should have chapter 8 up within a week or so ;)   
> Thank you all for the comments. Truly. I was worried no one would like this or find this an odd fanfic, but you are all so sweet and wonderful! I appreciate every comment, and they truly do help me get through when I don't have a ton of inspiration. Special shoutout to the anon who went to Tumblr to tell me they loved the fic! You are amazing.
> 
> Love you all! And enjoy ;) <3
> 
> PS: This is the longest chapter so far 
> 
> NSFW: slightly rougher sex, talk of BDSM rules, and riding. (Do I even need to put these here? It's tagged explicit for a reason lol)

Friday came quickly, thankfully. Christine had spent all day Thursday imagining what was going to happen. He had told her to bring pajamas, invited her to stay the night. Images of what he had done to her on top of the kitchen island filled her mind. His tongue, his hands, his eyes. It had been enough for her to be too distracted to do much school work through the day.

He had called that night as well, though he didn’t ask her to touch herself. He just spoke of his day as she spoke of her own. It was a comfort. They were just existing together in two separate spaces, yet the same. 

So when she woke Friday, Christine had picked out the navy blue cocktail dress before anything else. It was beautiful and reminded her of the night sky. The heels were an easy pick, nude and strappy. Having the outfit ready gave her some peace of mind. Then there was the overnight bag. She put in her favorite pajamas, as promised. The shirt was a perfect avocado green, and the pants a warm yellow with avocados scattered on them. They were cute and comfy, and she could imagine Erik chuckling at her for them. Then an outfit for the next day. Just jeans and a sweater. Simple, comfy, and appropriate for any errands she’d have to run after. Or for just lounging with him. Her toiletries she’d add after she showered and prepared for the day.

She spent Friday cleaning her apartment, needing to do something physical yet mindless. Music on, she cleaned, vacuumed, dusted, folded, and washed everything and anything she could. By the time she was done, it was time to get ready for Erik.

He came promptly and on time as he always did, taking the overnight bag (complete with toiletries now) from her hands before guiding her to the car. She swore that he’d never let her touch a door handle anymore, as he opened his car door and closed it for her. 

Dinner was lovely as well. Lobster and rich buttery rolls that Christine adored. She kept moaning during the dinner, which made Erik smirk. It was completely unintentional… at first. But it slowly dissolved to how many of these tiny, indulgent sounds could she make before he asked her what she was enjoying? Many, it seemed, as he didn’t say a word. Not even once they were alone in the car. 

The drive to his house was just as comforting as dinner had been. Erik made good light talk, and he was also an excellent listener. He’d always smile and nod and ask questions that made Christine know he cared and was listening to her. Much better than Raoul, who would talk over her. But then again, they’d been children. Raoul hadn’t known how to be a good partner, not like Erik knew.

The house (estate, as Christine called it in her head. Estate Erik) was just as beautiful as the last two times she’d been over. It was warm, a nice comfort from the autumn chill that now clung to the air. Autumn meant her birthday. Did he know her birthday was a little under a month away? 

He took her jacket, hanging it before going to the kitchen. “Wine?”

“No thank you. One glass is enough for me at the restaurant,” she said, following him. She couldn’t help but glance at the granite, where she herself had been laid out like a feast. 

“Very well.” He poured himself a glass of red wine before getting her a bottle of sparkling water. “How about this instead?”

“I’ll take that, thank you.” She smiled and opened the bottle, sipping it. Cool and bubbly across her tongue. 

“Let’s go sit in the living room. The fireplace should still be going,” he said. She began moving and he followed. The couch was a luxurious one, soft and comfortable. Once she sat, she crossed her ankles demurely, as she had once been told by some lady her father had worked with. An old woman who played harp. 

Erik watched her, his hazel-gold eyes a dark brassy color in the lighting. The living room was dimmed and lit mostly by the fire. Christine could imagine him sitting here, grading papers or reading some pretentious novel on a normal night. Instead he was watching her, like she was a specimen under a microscope.

“Well?”

“I’m waiting for you to start asking questions about the research,” he admitted.

“I have a few. I also have a few… um… limits.”

He raised a brow and set down the wine glass.

“Do you want to discuss those first?”

Christine nodded, fidgeting with the bottle of water. She had written them down, but she had thought of them so many times now she had the list memorized.

“I’m not going to call you Daddy,” she said, refusing to look at him. “Not with how my father is.”

“That’s understandable. Not everyone likes that. We can figure out an honorific if you’d like. But you are allowed to just call me Erik.”

“Oh, no. If we’re doing that, I’ll need to call you something else. Otherwise whenever I think of your name I’ll think of very-not-innocent things.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Fair. We will find a different honorific then.”

She nodded. “No collars or weird things like that. I’m a person, not your pet.”

“Pet play isn’t my cup of tea, so no worries there. If you  _ had _ shown interest, I would’ve had to do my own research personally.”

This was going much better than she expected. 

“Um… No calling me a… a whore. Or a slut. Not unless I say it’s okay that day. And no calling me stupid or dumb. A lot of people talked about that… humiliation? Degradation? Whatever it is, I don’t like it.”

He nodded once more. “We’ll find a full list of names that are okay and aren’t. Hard and soft limits.”

“Okay. Name calling is a soft limit then. We can cross it only when I say so.”

“Of course. Anything else?”

Christine thought of the things that had interested her. A certain post came to mind from a blog she had now gone back to a few times and read most of their posts that she felt appropriate for her education.

“I like being cared for. I know that. I like when partners text me asking if I’ve eaten or if I’m going to sleep at a good time. It’s a nice reminder, and it lets me know they’re thinking of me.” 

Her eyes still didn’t move to him. Why was this embarrassing? She had waited all week to finally discuss this with him! 

“Christine? Is this too much?” he asked.

She finally looked up to him. “No. No it’s just new.”

“Which is why we are going slow. I’m also not much of a sadist.”

“What would you say you are?” she asked. Meg had written down every “type” of dom they came across on their internet search. Service, sadistic, Daddy, brat-tamers, masters, primal, caretakers. There were so many and it had left Christine wondering what he was.

He thought for a moment, reaching for his wine once more. “I gain pleasure from caring for someone. From someone needing me. Be it for pleasure or emotional needs. I enjoy providing that. For that reason, if you needed me to listen and hold you close and buy you chocolate and soft blankets and socks, I’d do it. Just as quickly as I would deliver any ‘funishment’ or pleasure you asked for.”

“Okay… what’s funishment?” Was she asking too many questions now?

He hummed as he considered his answer. He didn’t want to scare the girl. “Some submissives, typically brats, find pleasure in punishments such as spanking. In that case, you couldn’t use spanking as a proper punishment. It becomes something the submissive and dominant enjoy.”

“Oh.”

“Does that interest you?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe?”

“We can try it one day. Not tonight.”

“Not tonight. What… what do you have planned tonight?” 

“Well, this discussion, first of all. And if you still want to continue, I figured we can begin rule by rule. I like things organized and well stated.”

“Like Christian Grey and his contract?”

Erik made a face. “No. No, and one day I will tell you every way he is an abuser, not a dominant, but that’s not for tonight. No. More in a way of… my expectations and your expectations. We can begin tonight, or tomorrow, or next week.”

Christine looked down. “Tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

He nodded and set down his wine before gesturing for her to move over to him. “Come here.”

It was such a simple command, yet it pulled at Christine’s gut in a way she didn’t expect. Commands. Commands, she liked. Especially when he was giving her that look. She set down the drink before standing and moving to sit by him. He chuckled and moved her so she was in his lap instead. “There.”

“Sorry.”

“No no, it’s okay. I should’ve specified.” 

She looked at him and a soft reflection caught her eyes. Just on the right side of his jaw, there was a paperthin scar. She gently ran a finger over it before his hand snatched hers. “That’s a hard limit for myself,” he said.

“So no questions about it?”

“No questions. Not until I say.”

She nodded and he loosened his grip, moving to kiss her finger tips. “You are stunning, Miss Daae.” 

“Thank you… Doctor.”

He made a face and shook his head. “Maybe now and then with certain scenes but not for every day,” he said. 

“... sir?” she tested. She’d seen lots of posts that referred to the dominant as sir, or ma’am as the relationship called for.

She smiled at his reaction. A low hum, in the back of his throat, more of a growl than any other human noise. “That’s better.”

“Well, there’s one thing resolved then.”

“You’re awfully bold for being so new to this.”

“I’m faking confidence in hopes it will give me some.”

“I like your honesty.” He stroked back her curls, smiling softly once more.

“I’m going to give you a few options. We can continue to discuss logistics of this. It isn’t just something for us to start without certain things in place. Then I’ll teach you how to ride me.” Christine licked her lips at that option. It definitely sounded nice. “Or, I could have you as I had you before, sweet and gentle, and then we can discuss. It’s up to you.”

“I can be patient.”

“Somehow I feel like that is a lie,” he said.

“Maybe. But for this I can be patient.”

He nodded and cupped his chin. “Logistics it is then,” he said. “I think we’ve decided you will call me sir. You’ll say please, sir. Thank you, sir. More, sir. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Such a fast learner.” His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth in a gentle and loving way. “We are going to add rules, one by one. Is that okay?”

She nodded. 

“Verbal-”

“Yes, sir,” she said before he could finish. He raised a brow and she felt that tug again.

“I feel this goes without saying, but you do not interrupt me. Understand?”

She took a steadying breath. “Yes, sir.”

“There are a few base rules that we need to discuss before we add. There are three. Base Rule One: You will call me sir. When you are pleading or thanking me or begging, you will call me sir. Base Rule Two: You will not interrupt me. I expect to be treated with respect. Let me speak, and afterwards, you may speak. I want to hear from you, unless I’ve given you a command to be quiet. Base Rule Three: Verbal answers. I’m sure you’ve noticed I like verbal answers. This is about consent. Consent is going to be clear. It is going to be specific. It is going to be ongoing. And it is going to be willingly given.” 

Christine smirked, knowing the poster he had gotten that from. They were everywhere around campus. But she quickly let the smile go thinking perhaps this wasn’t a time to giggle or joke. 

“Along with rule three comes our safe word. I have a specific system I use. I find it helps you communicate how you are feeling without needing too many words. Stop light.”

She nodded. “Red for stop?”

“Precisely. Red is stop. No questions asked, the scene stops and aftercare begins. Yellow is slow down. I will ask what it is I need to stop or lighten up on, and then we can continue or stop if that’s what’s best. I will stop now and again and ask for your color. If everything is going you would say…”

“Green?”

He smiled and nodded. “Perfect. Simple enough to remember?”

“Yes.”

“Yes…”

“Sir. Yes, sir.”

He chuckled. “You don’t need to call me sir right now, but that’s a good habit to get into.I want you to repeat those rules for me, Christine.”

She nodded. “I call you sir. That’s rule one. Rule two is I am respectful and I don’t do things like interrupt. And rule three is verbal consent. And our safe words.”

“Lovely. You’re very good at pop quizzes.”

“I’m excellent at them. Color coded notes.”

“Those are the base rules. They are basic and fundamental to what we do. With those, I promise to listen to you, your needs, and your desires. I will always provide aftercare. And I will always stop when you use the safe word.”

“What if I say stop instead?”

“For these first few months, I’m going to stop. But once you’re used to using the safeword instead, I won’t. Sometimes the thrill of a scene is when you ask me to stop and I don’t.”

“Like when a hesitant school girl is being given the chance for extra credit?”

“Already thinking of scenes are we?”

“I’ve had a fantasy of you bending me over your desk after class… a few times. Before you asked me to the date, in fact.”

“I’ll need to listen to these fantasies of yours.” He was smirking, the left side of his mouth higher than the right as it always was.

Christine blinked innocently. “Is that all for our logistics?” she asked. She had a few things to ask for later, but they were things for later, not for now. 

“I believe so. What was the second part of our arrangement?”

“Something about you teaching me to ride you?”

“Ah yes. Are you opposed to that?”

Christine thought before nodding. “I’d rather you bend me over the chair.”

His left eyebrow quipped up quickly before he nodded. “Up.” He patted her bottom gently, and she quickly stood. He looked her up at down, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip, contemplative and appraising.

“Take the dress off. I want to see what you have on underneath.”

Christine smirked and unzipped her dress. She let the satin pool at her feet, exposing the only lingerie set Christine owned. It was a royal blue set, not the exact shade of navy that she had for her dress, but definitely similar. His eyes roamed from the lacey bra, the dark fabric making her breasts so pale in comparison, down to the panties. The entire back was a delicate lace. His hands moved to her waist to turn her gently, observing how she looked. She felt like a statue, being appraised at auction by a prospective buyer. His eyes drifted down to her shoes. “You wear heels often.”

She let out a breathy laugh. Of all the things for him to say, he spoke about the shoes she’d worn all night?!

“I do, sir. I like them. I’m extremely short without heels, so I wear them.”

“I like them as well. They show off how… dainty, you are. Like a porcelain tea cup.” He stood, and despite the heels, he easily looked down on her. He was well over a foot taller than her, so the heels helped make those 13 inches closer to 9 or 10.

His hands moved from her shoulders down her arms until he was reached around to undo the bra she wore. He carefully put it over the arm of the couch before taking a step back. The sudden exposure made her nipples harden, and she was suddenly overly aware of her breasts.

“Pick up your dress and place it somewhere where it won’t wrinkle. I don’t like messes.”

She quickly nodded and stepped out of the blue satin before picking it up. She looked around before going and setting the dress over a dining room chair. She brushed out any wrinkles it had developed quickly before returning back to him. He stood with his hands behind his back as he watched her. It had been such a simple command, yet had her aching to do more for him. 

“You said you wanted to be bent over a chair?” he said.

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Why?”

“I… I like the idea of it.”

“I quite like the idea as well. There are many chairs and tables down here. I’ll let you take your pick of which one you’d rather sprawl across for me.”

She looked around again and yet again found herself looking at the dining room table. It was the perfect height… He noticed her gaze and nodded. “Go on.”

She walked over and stood by the table, waiting for him. He followed, chuckling softly. “Part of bending you over a chair or table is you actually bending over.”

Christine nodded and bent at the waist. He ran a hand down her bare back before guiding her to fully lie her front half on the wood. It was cool against her already sensitive breasts. She finally settled with her right cheek pressed down and she waited for him.

He began by just enjoying the view. Her bent over, her ass perfectly round in those little panties. Then her smooth and pale back. But it was her impatient finger, tapping on the table that sent him. He gently took her hands and placed them at the small of her back. “See if you can keep them there.” He wasn’t going to use any restraints before he asked her about them. 

She nodded, and he brushed her curls so he could see her face. “Such a pretty thing you are,” he cooed before leaning over and kissing her cheek. She smiled.

Erik pulled down her panties and chuckled seeing a rather dark stain. “How long have you been wet?”

Christine shifted on the balls of her feet for a moment, which made her hips sway in such a tantalizing way. His hands moved to hold onto her hips and make them stop moving. 

“Since you picked me up.”

“Really? That’s when it started?”

She nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

Erik crouched down, his hands moving to spread her apart gently and examine how wet she really was. “I like that you get wet for me. What were you thinking of? Hmm?”

“You… the kitchen island… w-what I was wearing was also making me wet.”

“The lingerie?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have more?”

“No. This is my only set and it’s the first time I’ve ever worn it.” 

Erik smirked. How lovely it was that he got to see this first. “How did you feel wearing it?”

“Pretty. I felt pretty.”

“You looked stunning in them.” He helped her step out of the panties before straightening up a gain. He then moved so he was in her line of sight as he began to roll up his shirt sleeves. She watched with wide eyes, keeping her hands just where he had placed them. He had a feeling that regardless of what he wanted, she would obey. She was sweet and wanted him happy.

He moved once more behind her, letting his fingers feel how wet she truly was. “So ready. All for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Christine made a tiny whimper at those two words. Praise. She liked praise. He’d have to remember that. Praise as opposed to degradation. He much preferred that himself. He pulled his hand away, happy to know that she was, by all means, ready. 

She waited patiently, not moving her feet or her hips or her fingers as she waited for him to unbuckle his belt. She finally heard the distinct sound of metal clinking together, then leather running through loops. The belt was set down next to her, and she found herself staring at it. All the different uses for a belt that she had read on those blogs came to mind. When would he start putting them to use as well? She was so lost in thoughts she didn’t hear the ripping of a foiled package.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt one hand on her hip, and… yes that was most definitely the head of his cock rubbing along her wetness. She made herself think that word. Cock. Such a vulgar word, yet so perfectly fitting for this new way of sex she was trying. 

“Ready, my dear?”

“Y-Yes, sir. Please… don’t tease.”

“You don’t like teasing?”

“No.” The head of his cock ran from her clit, making her jump slightly, all the way back down to her entrance. 

“Shame. I do. But that’s a lesson in patience I will have to teach you another day.” 

He held her hip as he pushed into her, reveling in the little gasp she gave. He held back his own groan of pleasure. She was tight and warm and wet. And he was large and filling and hard. She could feel his hips press against her ass and stay there for a moment. For a blissful few seconds, she was positively filled. Her eyes fluttered shut as she got used to the sensation once more.

Then he began moving. Her eyes shot open at the first thrust. It wasn’t fast or hurried, but it was demanding. Hard. He wasn’t making love to her as he had before. He was fucking her. Christine smiled at that knowledge and anxiously clenched her hands into fists. 

His own hand wrapped around her wrists to give him leverage before he began setting a solid rhythm. Hard but not fast. Erik let himself moan and sigh out her name as he moved, smirking as he heard her own moans begin.

He leaned down over her, his lips by her ear. “You feel amazing, my sweet.”

Christine’s eyes fluttered shut at those words. “So do you.”

Erik chuckled and pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear before straightening again. He let go of her wrists, moving both hands to her hips before beginning his rhythm again. He was close, and Christine was as well. She felt as if she were on the brink of it. Just there. If only she could get her hands under her and on her clit. Just as she had that thought, Erik’s own fingers found the spot of pleasure. Without warning, Christine came, moaning loudly and arching up off of the table.

Erik grunted as she tightened on him and came himself. He waited just a few moments before pulling out and moving to look at Christine.

“Christine… are you okay?”

She nodded,eyes closed blissfully. She hummed and opened them to look at him. Her pupils were dilated and nearly swallowed her blue irises whole. He kissed her nose gently. “Come on. Up.” He helped her stand before turning her so she sat on the table. He moved to leave, but Christine’s hand shot out. 

“Christine?”

“Don’t leave.” 

He watched her for a moment before taking her hands in his. “I’m just going to get a wipe to clean you up, then we can cuddle on the couch. Okay?”

She looked at him like a lost child would look at their parent before nodding. He left, returning with two rags. He carefully cleaned her with a warm rag before placing the cooler one on her face and neck. “You did very well, Christine. How did you like it?”

“I liked it a lot,” she said. “I liked when you said good girl.”

“I noticed.” He chuckled softly. Once they were both not sticky or panting and her high heels had been kicked off, he carried her to the couch and wrapped her in a blanket, not yet getting her dressed in pajamas. He held her like that for a while, content in the silence. Her legs straddled his lap, and her head rested on his shoulder. 

“Will you still teach me?” she asked quietly.

“Teach you what?”

“How to ride you.” She looked up at him. Erik felt his cock twitch at those words. 

“Now?”

She nodded. She had finally come down from the high and she didn’t feel as sore and sensitive there anymore. She wanted to ride him, show him what she could do. She pushed the blanket away. He had zipped his pants up again, but she moved to undo them.

Her hands were small, he realized. Small and soft and delicate, just like every other part of Christine. He watched as she pulled down his pants just slightly before reaching into his boxers. He hissed slightly as she pulled him out.

“How kind of you to help yourself,” he said and chuckled.

“Rule three?”

“No no. It’s okay. I would’ve said no if I didn’t want this.”

She nodded and returned her gaze to his manhood in her hands. She gave a few experimental strokes, which apparently was the right thing to do, as his eyes fluttered and his head tilted back.

“You have sinful hands, Christine. Keep doing that until I’m all the way hard again.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.” He could hear the smile in her voice, and was tempted to look before her hand moved again. 

Christine was indeed a fast learner, and she watched as he got harder and longer in her hand. She suddenly understood every time this was described as velvet wrapped steel or some other ridiculous analogy. However it wasn’t true either. It just… was. This was how it felt, and there was no good way to describe it in other words.

Her hand pulled away when he lifted his head again and he told her to stop.

“Now… are you ready?”

She bit her lip. “Am I?”

He hand dipped to her folds and he chuckled. “Does stroking my cock make you wet?”

“I-I think just your voice makes me wet… or thinking about what we’re going to do.”

“How lovely.” He grabbed his jacket and pulled out a small package and handed it to her. “We use these until we discuss otherwise.”

She nodded and took the condom, easily rolling it onto him. The banana in tenth grade health class  _ had _ come in handy. Who would have guessed?

“Good. Now…” he held his cock in his own hand before nodding for her to move. “Sit.”

Christine placed her hands on his shoulders as she lifted her hips before she slowly sat down. Her jaw hung open as she moved down his length. This way was so much  _ deeper _ . She felt full of him by the time her hips met his.

He was hissing in breaths through his teeth, his hands gripping at her sides tightly. He nodded slowly. “Move your hips around. In circles. Up and down. Impress me.”

Christine nodded, starting by rocking her hips forward and back. She moaned at the friction it created, her clit rubbing against his groin. But after a few seconds, it wasn’t enough. Christine had never thought of herself a  _ wanton _ before, but she most certainly was now. She needed him, craved him. She’d craved him since her first taste of him.

Her hips bounced up and down, and he helped guide her with his hands on her hips. His lips found her left nipple, sucking and nipping at it before moving to the right. Their combined moans echoed through the downstairs and it wasn’t long before they were both climaxing again. Christine caught her breath, forehead pressed to his. She smiled softly feeling his hand stroke her cheek. How satisfying it had been, knowing she had been in charge of their pleasure, even for just a moment.

“Let’s clean up,” Erik finally said. She nodded and stood on shaky legs. He guided her to the bathroom this time, bringing her overnight bag with him. After helping clean her, then cleaning himself quickly, he got her dressed in pajamas. He knelt at her feet, instructing her when to lift her leg so he could slide her panties onto her hips, then her avocado pants.

“You were being serious,” he said.

She nodded, eyes wide and lips slightly pouted. He looked up at her and smiled. “How are you feeling, Christine?”

“Floaty… like I wanna cuddle and watch a Disney movie.”

He nodded and helped her pull on the t-shirt. “Well, this may be your little space. We’ll discuss more about it when you’re out of it. But for now, enjoy.”

She nodded, and she intended to enjoy it. It was nice. Her head was just a fuzzy and warm feeling, full of thoughts like how he loved her, maybe, and how she had made him feel good. No anxieties of the real world. No thoughts of if this was right or wrong.

He guided her upstairs to his room, grabbing some water bottles and snacks, and she sat in the middle of the bed, hugging a pillow to herself as he changed into his own pajamas. One changed, he crawled into the bed and drew her into his arms.

“I like this,” she said and looked back up at him. “Little space.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you do. Here. Drink some water.” He handed her a water bottle after he opened it. She took greedy sips, not realizing how thirsty she had gotten from the two orgasms. She was exhausted now though. Properly tired and ready to sleep. 

Erik noticed and laid down with her under the covers. “Sleep, Christine. We can spend all day together tomorrow if you’d like,” he said, stroking back her hair. “We’ll have a nice breakfast and go shopping. Anything you want.”

She nodded and closed her eyes, nestling into the soft mattress. “Thank you, Erik,” she whispered.

His heart melted ever so slightly as he looked at her. So sweet and innocent upon his pillow. How lucky he was that she was still here… how lucky he might be if she stayed.

“You’re welcome, Little Lotte.” 

  
  



	8. The Dressing Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mild exhibitionism, sex without condom
> 
> Sorry it's so late!!! Life gets in the way and muse for sexy fics can be so fickle.
> 
> Thank you for all your comments and kudos!!! I love every single one, even if I don't reply. Thank you all for reading. We're starting to get into more personal things with Christine, and Erik will reveal his secrets soon as well.

Erik Destler’s bed sheets smelled like him. Citrus and something musky and warm. But citrus was the predominant scent. It had been lovely to fall asleep on his bare chest, the warmth of his skin under her cheek, his fingers in her curls, and that smell. At first she thought it was cologne, but the scent clung to his lightly tanned skin and to the dark sheets. Her dreams were filled with citrus. 

Sunlight filtered into the room when Christine woke. It was early, that was clear. A soft glow, not the strong steady beam of light of late morning into the afternoon. No, this was a watery and soft light that spoke of people just getting up. It was late September, though. It wasn’t five AM like it had been. Days were shorter, nights longer. The sun rose around seven now, and began shining proudly around eight. 

Christine thought this as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. She was still asleep atop of Erik, her cheek just where it had been when she fell asleep. She glanced up at him. Erik was still asleep. One arm was carefully around her, the other thrown over his head. His chest rose steadily with breath, and she found herself noting that he didn’t snore. Her father snored. She remembered falling asleep in his bed after a nightmare, and he’d fall asleep before she could. He had snored and she had giggled with each one. 

Erik didn’t snore.

Christine moved to sit up and she looked around the room a bit. She hadn’t taken it in last time she’d awoken here, and every other time it had been dark or she’d been thoroughly exhausted.

It was a very large master suite, probably the size of her apartment. The bed was sturdy and made from a dark wood. Mahogany came to mind, but Christine figured that was the wood everyone thought of when trying to conjure an expensive and pretty kind. There were many windows, and a few had thick black-out curtains over them, but others were letting in the morning light. 

The room was large enough to have a sitting area and two fireplaces, one by the bed, and one in this mini-living-room in the corner. One door led to a modern bathroom. She did remember that from her last stay. A large walk in shower with more shower heads than needed and custom temperature settings. The hot water had never run out, and she had been tempted to stand there until it did.

There was another door, and she figured it led to a closet, as there didn’t seem to be a dresser in the room. She had a dresser. Her closet was miniscule and held things that had to be hung. Dresses, blouses, sweaters. Everything else was folded as small as it could be and placed in the old dresser she’d bought for herself at the Goodwill. Why hadn’t she just gotten herself a nice dresser that would last her a long time? She had the money… 

There was art on the walls. Paintings that were abstract and beautiful, and Christine could see from the bed that they were originals. Not copies. The rest of the room was covered in book shelves. She remembered glancing in his study the last time she had been here, and there was a single wall that was entirely books. A ladder had been set in the wall and could be slid back and forth to reach the top shelf. 

Erik must be an avid reader to need a wall of books and then some. But perhaps these were books he enjoyed reading on his own. Books that weren’t expected to be read and reviewed by the doctor. 

Christine was just about to stand and be nosey when she heard him groan softly. 

“Lay back down,” he said, before turning to his side.

_ His voice… _ It was sleepy. Low and slightly gravely. Undeniably hot.

“Yes, sir,” Christine said in a teasing tone before laying back down. She faced him on her side, taking in his face. He chuckled and shook his head. 

“Good morning, Christine,” he finally said after a few more minutes of his eyes being closed.

“Good morning.” 

“How did you sleep?”

“I think your bed is magic. I can’t even remember falling asleep.”

“You  _ were _ rather exhausted, too.”

She nodded. “Indeed.”

His fingertips brushed over her temple and down her jaw. “It’s still early. Neither of us  _ need  _ to be up.”

A quick glance at the clock told her it was just 7:01. They could sleep another hour or two… but she wasn’t tired now. As if he could see the thoughts in her head, he kissed her gently before moving his lips to her ear. “Do you need something to let your mind sleep another hour?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

He smirked and moved so he was hovering over her. This was a position she hadn’t been able to appreciate her first time. She’d been so petrified and excited and nervous. And then he’d been eating her out. And then last night… 

“Is it true men wake up aroused?” she asked.

Erik laughed, low and breathy. “You have such terrible timing for questions like that.”

“Did I ruin the mood?”

“Hardly. And to answer that very interesting question, no. Not always. Sometimes. And some men it is always. For others it never happens.”

“For you?”

He moved so his weight was on one hand, the other taking hers and letting it travel under the blankets, between their bodies. Her fingers found his length through his boxers. He was half-hard, and her contact made him twitch. She giggled slightly.

“Only with you,” he finally answered her.

She pushed down his boxers before pushing off her own pajama pants and the panties as well. “Really?”

“Indeed,” he said, mimicking the single word she had said earlier. She giggled and cupped his jaw, moving him so he’d lean down to kiss her.

He kissed her slowly, taking a second before parting her lips with his tongue. As his tongue entered her mouth, he entered her. This was love making. Not fucking. Her tiny moans and his gentle thrusts were enough to confirm that. Her hands fluttered from his jaw to his shoulders to his chest, and it wasn’t long before they were both orgasming. Him with a grunt and hiding his face in her shoulder, her with a high pitched moan, her legs wrapping tightly around his. He rolled to her side, letting his heart and breathing even.

“Can we stay in bed another hour?” she asked, her eyes lidded once more. Perhaps another hour and a half of sleep was needed. They had been up late the night before.

“I’m glad I could convince you,” Erik said before pulling her close. 

Erik and Christine both showered (separately, though Erik had a few ideas for later already) and got dressed. Christine had packed jeans and a sweater in her bag, and was grateful she had remembered everything. She normally didn’t forget a thing when she packed and she always overpacked. It never eased the worry of forgetting a pair of underwear or socks or jewelry. 

She showered and dressed first, fixing her hair in the mirror in his room before going downstairs and waiting. Her dress still hung from the back of the chair. She smirked, remembering what had happened the night before. Out of curiosity, she bent herself over the island. Without heels she had to get on her toes, but even then she was hanging by her ribs, not flat as she had been the night before. With some wiggling she got up. Her feet didn’t touch the floor.

What would that be like? To have him take her when she was so helpless on the counter, unable to touch the floor or move away from his hands.

“Getting ideas?”

The words jolted her from her daydreaming and she turned around quickly, now sitting on the island. Erik was there, dressed in dark jeans and a maroon turtleneck. His hair was soft and curly and perfect looking and he was smirking, leaning against the counter opposite her as he watched Christine on the island.

“Perhaps.”

“Such as?”

“The dining room table is better than the island?” It was more of a question than an answer for him.

He hummed. “Duly noted.” 

His hands moved to his pockets and his gaze didn’t leave her. She felt pinned by his eyes. “How are you more beautiful every time I see you?” he finally said. His voice was just above a whisper, and the way he said it made her heart melt a little.

“How does anything become more beautiful over time?” she asked.

He walked over and stood between her legs, his hands on her hips. Like this, they were the same height. She was able to look him straight in the eyes, her nose bumping his. Erik’s nose had become another part of him she discovered was unnecessarily perfect. It was straight and not too large but not too small. Part of her fantasized about him wearing glasses. His face could benefit from glasses. It would either hide just enough of his sexiness to be tolerable to look at for extended time, or it would enhance his sexiness to where she wouldn’t ever be able to look away…

The thoughts were cut short by his lips on hers. She could taste the toothpaste and smell his body wash. It was all so perfectly him. When the kiss broke, he helped her off the island.

“Later. For now, I’d like to go shopping with you. Spoil you a little.”

“You really don’t have to,” Christine said. She didn’t like people spending money on her in any way. 

“I want to. Truly, I do.” He smiled and kissed her knuckles. “Please?”

Christine gave a little sigh and smiled. “How can I say no to that face?” she asked.

“You can’t. It’s irresistible.” She giggled at his little quip, and he smiled right back at her. Smiling as if she were the only thing worth loving.

“This one,” Erik said, handing Christine a shimmering champagne colored dress. It was metallic, yet the fabric wasn’t heavy. Christine took it from him, inspecting the thin straps and the slit up the legs. It was gorgeous.

Her fingers searched for a tag, but he quickly took it away. “No looking at the tags!” he teased. It was the third time he had said it. WHich meant the dress was expensive.

“I have no reason to have a dress that fancy,” Christine pointed out.

“What if I take you to a gala?” he said. “Or a banquet for the hospital? You could wear it then.”

She sighed. If Christine had learned anything from the last hour of shopping with Erik, it was that he could reason her to have any piece of clothing, jewelry, or accessory she could possibly need. The first few items she had fought against valiantly. Eventually she learned that it was as useless as Sisyphus and his rock.

The dress was added to the growing pile of bags and boxes, and Erik once again was making a trip to place it back in the car. Christine went with, humming as they walked.

“You’re spending too much money on me,” she said.

“One last place, Christine. I promise.”

“Okay. Then we’re getting food. I’m hungry.”

Erik chuckled and led her back into the mall. She saw his sight catch on Victoria’s Secret before walking past it. He stopped in front of a small boutique, and Christine could see there was lingerie and loungewear inside. 

“This is our last stop?” she asked.

“You looked so pretty in the outfit you picked out for me. I would like to… experience that a little more. But if you really don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

Christine shook her head and looked at the store. Without a word, she walked in and began looking. Everything was lacey or soft or gauzy or silk or see-through or any combination of these things. And it was all beautiful. She let her fingers trace a lavender set. He watched everything she touched and smirked as he came up behind her. “I have half a mind to ask you to try something on,” he whispered in her ear.

She turned red and glanced around. There were plenty of people in the store and no one else had heard his words. “Really? I know my size rather well.”

“I want you to try something on and then we can test just how  _ quiet _ you can be in the dressing room. Hmm?”

Christine’s fingers tightened on the piece of silk in her hands. A pair of panties where the back was nothing more than a few ribbons. She set it down and looked at the lavender set again. She picked it up and asked the woman if she could try them on.

“Of course, dear! With panties, we ask you to keep yours on when you try on.. Let me unlock the room for you.” The woman, a middle aged woman in all black with hair that was far too red to be anything but artificial, led Christine back to a very secluded dressing room. Oh. This was why. Christine had grabbed a few other things to “try on” and thanked the “redhead” as she got into the small place. 

It was very secluded she realized, as she didn’t hear even the music from the store anymore. She tried on the lavender set, glancing in the mirror after. Wow…

She jumped at a knock, having nearly forgotten Erik. She opened the door and popped her head out. “Yes?”

“May I see?” he asked.

She hummed and finally opened the door enough for him to slip in. It was a tiny room, and he took up most of the space. His eyes took her in and he sighed. “Beautiful,” he said. “How do you feel?”

“Sexy,” she admitted. “It’s pretty.”

He hummed and ran a finger over the cup of the bra, his touch just barely scraping her breast. When he pulled away, he was turning her around. He leaned against the wall opposite the mirror and pulled her to his chest, his hands now traveling down her stomach.

“Such a pretty little package for me to unwrap,” he whispered in her ear. He pushed the two pair of panties down, the matching set to the bra she had on now, and her own. “Wet already?”

“The… the things you whispered in my ear,” she answered to the question that wasn’t really much a question.

Erik hummed as his hand drifted lower and lower, until finally his fingers were brushing over her folds. Christine gasped and his other hand came up to place a single finger over her lips. 

“Be quiet as a little mouse,” he whispered. “Be very… very… quiet.”

Christine found that a hard thing to do when he had two fingers spreading her wetness around and the heel of his hand rubbing against her clit. Her breath hitched slightly. His fingers really were perfect. He could play her like an instrument. She took a steadying breath and closed her eyes.

“You look so beautiful when you’re blissed out like this,” he cooed in her ear. “So, so beautiful.”

His breath was warm against her ear, and it took even more willpower than she thought possible to stay quiet. It was a slow build, but it was a strong build. Like a tsunami. Unassuming at first until it was crashing over her all at once. He carefully held her to him as she shook with her orgasm, her pleasure crashing like waves against the shore.

He held her until she was jelly in his arms. He kissed her temple before helping her stand. “I’ll go out first. You get settled and then we can check out and go home.”

She nodded and watched him slip out of the dressing room. Getting put together took longer than she thought. Her fingers shook and she felt like she wanted to go to sleep for a long time now. 

Erik had already went to the counter with what appeared to be three bags full of things already.   
“Christine, set down that lavender pair here,” he said. Christine considered telling him that he didn’t need to buy her all of these expensive pieces, but she found herself actually wanting them. If one pretty tame set made him do _that_ what would the more riskier ones get her? 

So Christine watched the clerk scan the tags then add them carefully to a bag. The total made Christine’s head spin. That much?! For underwear and bras?! But Erik swiped his credit card as if it was nothing and they walked out with the associated smiling. That red-headed one seemed to be a little disappointed to see him so securely at Christine’s side, but the brunette was too fuzzy still to even notice.

All through lunch as well, Christine held onto the lovely fog. Erik noticed and let her float there, holding her hand and kissing her fingers. He’d taken her to a cafe and had ordered them both a salad. It wasn’t until the drive home, with more money worth in bags than she’d ever spent in a single day sitting in the back seat and the trunk, that he finally addressed it. 

“Has that happened every time I’ve given you an orgasm, Christine?” he asked. He was holding her hand over the middle console, his thumb running over her knuckles every now and again.

“Yeah… the last few times.”

He seemed about to say something when his face went gray. “Shit…”

It was jarring hearing him say something like that out of the blue. “What?”

“We… this morning. You don’t take birth control right?”

“No… oh. You didn’t have a condom,” Christine quickly said. He seemed slightly panicked and was tapping the wheel with both hands now.

“Erik? You really don’t have to worry. I… I can’t get pregnant. At least, not without extensive medical intervention,” she explained. “I was told I was mostly infertile when I was seventeen. It’s okay.”

He frowned and glanced over to her. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay. I’ve known for a while. And I can always do treatments in the future if I want or… or I could adopt,” she said. 

“It still doesn’t excuse the fact I did that without discussing it first.” 

Christine watched him, seeing a look of true regret in his features. She cupped his cheek gently, smiling at him. That thin scar gleamed, and from this angle she could see it stretched from his ear to his chin. Thin as a strand of hair. She traced it with a feather light and loving touch.

“It’s okay, Erik. I would’ve said if it wasn’t. I know sometimes in the heat of things, we don’t think about condoms. I certainly wasn’t. It really is okay.”

He sighed and leaned to kiss her palm as he coasted to a stoplight. He gazed over at her, his hand taking hers. His lips pressed to her knuckles there and held. Christine’s heart melted…

“Starbucks then home?” he suggested.

She nodded vigorously. “Yes!”

He chuckled and returned his gaze to the traffic light, which turned green right on his cue. 

“If it’s this easy to please you, I’ll have to do it more often.” 

  
  



	9. The Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christine and Erik take a new step in their relationship and Christine discovers a few new things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm back! School is over! I'm motivated to write! And I've got an extra long and extra sweet and extra sexy chapter for you all. Thank you for your patience!!! Please, any comments are really loved. They keep me going when times feel tough.
> 
> I'll hope to update again soon! I've got a long break coming up and a lot of writing planned.
> 
> Happy reading! LivvySunshine

It was just a week or so into October, and he had consistently called her every night. Most calls were now ending with her having an orgasm, or not, depending on his mood. He’d give her verbal aftercare, soft prompts to go to the bathroom, drink water, and get to sleep, and then she’d fall asleep before he hung up. 

The routine kept them satiated enough where she didn’t have to think about his hands during class. Or the idea of him fucking her over his desk. Or the image of him when she was on her knees… that had been a new perspective. Blowjobs were a new thing, and while she felt awkward, he was always praising her and assuring her that she did well. After all, “Gag reflexes can be trained away.” That was a promising idea… 

She had mentioned her birthday coming up later in the month at their normal Friday night dinner, and he had nodded, saying he had a gift or two already purchased. Everything was normal, or as normal as it had begun with the two. So far he had only given her the base rules. Call him sir. Be respectful. Verbal answers. The safe words were still in place, and he’d often question her. 

“If you wanted me to stop, what would you say, Christine?”

It would often take a moment for the submissive haze to fade from her mind. “Red…”

“Good girl.”

That submissive haze had been given to her many times now. And she found it didn’t just come from sex. It came from him asking her to grab his jacket, or when he told her to unbutton his shirt. It came when he called her a good girl in public or when he’d place his hand on her thigh in a manner that spoke “you are _mine._ ”

He had given her small commands more recently. Texts messages that told her to come to his office right after class. Telling her to send him a picture of her right then and there. He always stressed that she was allowed to say no. But Christine found the act of being good and doing what she was told to be rewarding. 

By all means, everything was going well. Even outside of the relationship. Raoul wasn’t asking her anything intimate now, her father sounded better every day. According to the doctors, Charles Daae might be starting his last round of chemotherapy in the next couple of weeks. Her grades were good. Things were _good._

“I want to add a rule,” Erik said. They had just finished dinner, and he had one hand on her thigh and the other steering the car.

“Oh…” Christine blinked. She had forgotten what this really was. She had forgotten that this wasn’t the base rules and that was that. Just where she called him sir and he was allowed to be a little more rough. 

Part of her was excited. The idea of a rule to follow, of this becoming a little more serious, it intrigued her.

“What is it?” she finally asked.

“Simple. No touching yourself in any sexually satisfying way without asking.”

She hummed at that idea. No masturbating. No playing with her nipples as he spoke to her over the phone. Not without him saying so. That could work.

“Will this go both ways?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I can’t enjoy myself. It would hardly be fair if you’re allowed to have any orgasm you want whenever and I have to ask to even get myself close,” she pointed out. 

Erik hummed. He placed the car in park as they reached the house. She was right, of course. It was unfair for him to ask her to withhold herself during the week when he found himself often thinking of her. 

“I think we should have a full negotiation,” he said. “A moment for us to both speak about what we want going forward now that you know a bit more. That way, neither of us feel like the other is getting more than the other.”

Christine nodded. “Okay.”

He made tea. Christine noticed he always made tea after they had sex. She supposed it was part of aftercare? Though it was weird thinking of it as that. She never felt like she _needed_ him to provide aftercare. But she took the mug with a smile and curled up on the couch with a blanket tossed over her lap. 

He sat down opposite her, took a sip of the tea, and set it down. “This will take a little bit of time,” he said. “But it’s important. Especially now that you have a sense of what this is going to be like. You’ve seemed to enjoy the past two weeks. Am I right?”

“I have. I like calling you sir. I like doing those little tasks you tell me to. I do really enjoy this. It’s… it’s nice having someone care for me. Even a little.”

“I want to do more. More caring, that is. Not necessarily more sex. But… more. Small things. Things that remind you of me. Things that make me feel like I’m doing something good by you.”

Christine frowned. “Do you feel you aren’t doing good now?”

“It isn’t so much that. It’s that I feel I could do more. Every other woman I’ve done this with has known the dynamic, and eventually left for something more. I never felt as if I wasn’t serving.”

Serving. That described them both rather well now that Christine thought of it. A service dom and a service sub. That’s how some websites and blogs had described this. People who wanted to please their partner. Provide for them in the way they could. For her, she provided in her submission and obedience. He provided in giving her things, orders, gifts, commands. And she found herself intrigued by it.

“We can always stop if I don’t like something.”

Erik nodded. “True. We can.”

“You know I’m not doing this because you want to. I mean, I am. But… but I want to do it too. I never wanted to admit the curiosity I had about this. When Fifty Shades came out it was kind of like this was something people could discuss and try. But a lot of people said it wasn’t a good representation of… BDSM or any dom/sub dynamic. So I avoided it. I was scared to do the research for myself.”

Erik seemed a little taken aback by her words. She never had really spoken back to him like this. Or rather, she hadn’t spoken up for herself before. Christine was not a docile person. She was sweet and kind and, yes, she was submitting to him, but she didn’t want him to believe that that wasn’t a well earned thing.

“I wouldn’t trust my submission to anyone other than you, Erik,” she clarified.

“I see,” he said. He stood and returned with a notebook and a pen. An expensive looking notebook naturally, and a heavy metal pen. 

“I’d be okay integrating this a little more into the non sexual acts,” Christine said. “I like being taken care of. Truly.”

He nodded and wrote this down. He tapped the pen against the paper and looked up at her. 

“Thoughts on adding new rules?”

“Let’s discuss them first, yes?”

So they did. Eventually they worked out something that felt right. Christine had two new rules, and others that would be implemented later. The first new rule was she had to ask permission for orgasms. He clarified that sometimes he wouldn’t need it, and that sometimes he would say no.

“So what happens if I do orgasm then?” Christine asked. Her tone was flirtatious. Which felt good to Erik. It meant they could discuss more of the funishment side of this.

“Well… that’s when we get to punishments, my dear little thing,” he said, unable to hide his smirk. “The punishment fits the crime. I suppose if you cum without permission, I’ll just ensure you don’t cum for the next week.”

Christine bit her lip, trying to conceal a smile through the action. By the end of the hour long discussion they had a few things written on the paper.

New Rules:

  1. Christine is to ask for permission before having an orgasm
  2. Christine is to thank Erik after every edge or orgasm, ruined or not



“Punishments”:

  1. Orgasm denial
  2. Light spanking (?)



Christine had made a small face at the idea of spanking. “I-I want to try it!” she said. “But I have a feeling it’ll definitely work as a punishment.”

“That is the intended purpose. I had a brat once who asked for them far too often, it was impossible to punish her,” he chuckled. “Back when I started all of this, mind you. It has been a very long time since I’ve had a partner.”

Christine didn’t mind how he would sometimes speak about the experiences he had before. It made her feel less… awkward about this. He had dealt with girls who were new to this before. He himself had been new to it once. The last was a list of… things.

-butt plugs

-vibrators

-dildo

-restraints

-clamps

-sensory toys

-gag

“I used to have a few of these, but I would rather buy new for you,” he explained. “Just for cleanliness sake.”

She approved of the list and of the new rules, and she even copied down the new rules on a separate sheet of paper for herself. Not included in the rules were new agreements. He would agree to buy her a membership to the best gym in town so long as she used it consistently. As well as she ate well. He said he’d provide her with money if needed, though she had quickly said no. It felt too much like payment for sex in that way. 

They spent the next half of an hour just talking as they had in the restaurant. About school, life, everything and nothing. It was nice, Christine thought, to have someone to just talk to. To just enjoy spending time with.

“I think I have an idea,” she said after a bit.

“And what would that idea be?”

She looked away, unable to look him in the eyes as she said this. “I would like to practice using my mouth while… while you teach me how to.” The last time he had just let her do what felt right and would mention if something felt particularly good. 

Her eyes stayed focused on the fireplace until she felt him tilt her chin so she was looking at him. His eyes were dark, and the face he was making told her that he definitely liked that thought.

“Only if I get to devour you after,” he spoke.

She gave a tiny nod before moving closer. Erik glanced around before standing and settling back into an armchair. He often sat here when she wasn’t here. It was the perfect spot to read or grade papers. Or get your cock sucked by a beautiful little brunette. He could already feel his trousers beginning to feel too tight as he began to grow hard. 

Without needing a command or even a look, Christine settled on her knees between his legs.

“I like it when you watch me undo my belt,” he spoke as he began to do just that. “I find it far better to see your desperate look of impatience in your eyes.”

She looked up at him before looking back to his hands. “Yes, sir,” she said. He slid the belt open before unbuttoning his trousers. It took far too long in her opinion before his length was exposed to her. She went to reach for it, but his hand grabbed hers.

“Not yet. Not until I say so,” he said. Christine pouted. Erik pumped his cock a few times, grunting as he finally grew completely erect. “Alright. Go ahead.”

Christine wrapped a single hand around his length, her eyes inspecting it. She looked up at him once more. 

“You know what to do. You’ve done it once. Perhaps start with licking it a little. You’re allowed to tease me a bit here.” His voice was still even and smooth, as if her hand didn’t make him want to fuck her brains out, as if the innocent little look she was giving didn’t drive him crazy. She was going to be the death of him, and she didn’t even know how she affected him!

Christine did as he told her, her tongue licking hesitant at first, before she grew bolder and drew a long line from the base of him to the tip. He groaned, and a hand went to her hair. “Perfect… keep doing that, then wrap those pretty lips just at the tip and suck. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, before licking just as she had before. Long fat licks that sent his moaning and gripping her curls. Then she wrapped her lips around him. The lipstick she had worn that day hadn’t smudged one bit. A beautiful berry color that looked dark against her pale skin, and positively sinful next to his own. Her tongue swirled and flicked, and his steady voice wavered as he said, “That’s good. Just like that. Then you’re…. Fuck. You’re going to slowly bob your head up and down. Don’t be afraid to be messy.”

Christine was a fast learner, he decided. Not just in his class, but here as well. Suddenly he imagined this. Her under his desk, his dick in her mouth as he graded papers or told her how she did on his last test. _I’ll give you some extra credit if you can get me to cum in the next three minutes_ he’d say, and he would feel her pick up speed and watch those big blue eyes look up at him.

His hips bucked up, causing Christine to suddenly gag. She pulled away, a line of saliva connecting her lips to his cock still. 

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly. She was breathing heavily, and her eyes were dilated. 

“Good so far?”

“Excellent. When you’re ready, keep going.” And she did. She slowly worked lower and lower on him, constantly pushing herself. He ensured that he didn’t buck his hips or push her down with his hand, letting her set her own pace and depth.

“Enough!” he said suddenly, pulling her back. “Enough. I’ll finish if you keep going and I’d hate for this night to be cut short,” he said. 

Christine gave a tiny pout, and Erik ran a thumb over her mouth. “How did you feel doing that, Christine?”

“Good, sir. I… you were all I could think of. How you sounded. And your hands in my hair. And how you tasted. And… and smelled.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, sir. It was like I could only think of you. I liked it.”

“Would you like to get better?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded. That would have to include her training herself at home… or… no. It was too early to consider moving her in here. It was far too early. Just barely a month! She would say no. He passed his thumb over her lips once more before letting his hand travel down her neck to her collarbone. 

“Stand up,” he said, waiting until she had before standing himself. He tucked his erection back into his boxers and adjusted his pants, though didn’t bother trying to rezip or rebuttoned them. That was a lost cause, and one that would end in discomfort. She was still dressed and that had to change. He circled around her a single time before pulling the zipper on her dress down. It easily slipped off of her shoulders and landed in a pool on the ground. “Where should I take you today, Christine?” he asked, running light fingers across the edge of her bra cup.

He could see her shiver and smirked. “W-Wherever.”

“No. I asked you a question. I’d like an answer. A definite one.”

Christine seemed frustrated at having to decide where he was going to fuck her, but she glanced around the downstairs. “Your room?” she suggested. 

“Then start moving there. I’ll be watching.”

Christine began to walk to the stairs and he stayed behind her, his eyes never leaving her ass. He knew she could feel his gaze and he knew her heart was probably racing. He liked that. His fingers twitched with his own anticipation. He was excited to move forward. And the prospect of his tongue between her thighs wasn’t too bad either.

Once she reached the bedroom, she turned to look back at him, eyes wide and innocent. So very innocent. Erik pressed a soft kiss to her lips, unable to help himself to them. “Let’s get this off, shall we?” He asked, running his finger down her bra strap. Christine gave a nod and moved to unhook her bra.

Once the bra and panties were on the floor, she was moving towards him. “Your turn,” she said as she loosened the tie he was wearing. Her tiny fingers worked deftly as they unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it and his waistcoat off of his shoulders. Almost as if she were in a trance, she ran her hands over his bare chest, her eyes taking in the exposed flesh.

Her hands moved to pull down his trousers next, and he happily stepped out of them. She continued until he was as bare as she was. With a content little smile, she stepped back and gave a nod. “I believe we can continue now,” she said.

“Oh can we?” he said. “How sweet of you to undress me without me even asking.” 

Christine looked up at him with wide eyes, so innocent looking. He tucked a curl behind her ear, unable to look away from her face. 

“I believe you promised to devour me,” she finally spoke. Erik blinked away the recent image of her lips wrapped around his cock. 

“That I did.” His fingers traced her cheekbone, down her throat, landing just at the pulse point. Carotid. Before he could say anything, she was smiling.

“A before O, Professor.”

“Precisely. A before O.” He lowered his lips to that point, not afraid of sucking a dark bruise there. She might have to wear a scarf later, but he wanted to mark her, even slightly. There was a soft moan from her throat before she was pulling him towards the bed.

His lips drifted down once she was on her back. Down to her collarbone. He peppered kisses her, his lips as light as feathers dancing across her hot skin. Down to her breasts, where he suckled at her nipples until she arched and moaned and begged for more. Down her stomach, until finally his lips were just above where she was begging him to be.

Christine was panting, unable to hold back her desperation any longer. One hand threaded through his hair, guiding him to where he was needed, the other groping at her own breast. Without hesitation, Erik’s tongue found her. He licked and sucked as if she were the sweetest fruits he had tasted. His fingers teased her entrance until she was begging. And just before she was about to hit that marvelous peak, he pulled away entirely.

“Wha…” she slurred, looking down at him. He was lining himself up, his eyes dark and hungry. His lips claimed her as he thrust in. The sensation of him filling her so completely, the taste of herself on his lips, the sounds of the low grunts and moans he was making. All combined it was enough to push her into that floating headspace.

She didn’t know what to call it yet. Most of her research just called it Sub-Space. But whatever it was, Christine enjoyed it. It was all simply sensation. Feelings. Physical and emotional. It was just her and Erik. No thoughts other than them together. It was the best place to be.

It wasn’t long before she was screaming his name, riding her orgasm out as he did the same. Their breathing was in sync as he laid next to her. Christine’s eyes were closed, blissed out beyond her thoughts.

“Christine? Can you hear me, love?” Erik whispered.

She gave a tiny, “Mhm,” in response.

Erik chuckled and kissed her nose. “Well, start making your way back to me, okay? Take your time.” With a loving touch, he stroked back the hair from her temple as she tried to swim through the hazy sensational fog she had wrapped her mind in. Finally, Christine opened her eyes.

“I’m sticky,” she murmured.

Another chuckle escaped from Erik and he stood, gathering her in his arms. He went to the bathroom and set her on the edge of the tub as he began running water in the walk in shower. With little effort, she swooped her curls up into a bun. It was not a day for washing them. That was too much time and effort and energy. Energy she did not have now. Not after all of that. 

“We will resolve that right now,” he said, taking her hand so she would stand up. Her legs shook a little, but once she was up, Erik took no time in scooping her into his arms once more and setting her in the shower. “There,” he said.

She rested her head on his chest, letting the warm water hit her back. She was exhausted and sticky and wanted more than anything to just relax in his arms.Maybe read a book or watch some show with him. Spend time with her Erik. After all. She loved him.

Her eyes snapped open with that realization. Love. She _loved_ him. It felt odd to just now be realizing this. Especially considering the sex and the gifts. But before it was all… contractual. They had an attraction, and it worked for now. This wasn’t permanent. It couldn’t be. He was a professor and she was a student and her father was sick. 

As if sensing her thoughts drifting, he began to wash her body, his hands soothing. Rubbing circles on her back and caressing down her arms. Shoulders to fingertips. Across her collarbone. Down her breasts and stomach. She gave a tiny whimper as he began to wash her thighs and what lay between.

“I know, I know,” he cooed. “Sensitive. But we need to clean you up.” 

He looked up at her with those golden eyes, and she realized he was waiting for her to give him the okay to continue. With a tiny nod, he finished cleaning her core. 

“There.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. And again the thought pressed against her mind. 

_I love you_.

The words were poised on her lips, resting against her tongue. Holding them back was like holding back a tidal wave. Somehow, through some brute force of will, she swallowed the words down along with her pride. 

After they were both cleaned, Erik turned off the water and walked over to grab the fluffy towels. From the towel warmer naturally. Because he was Erik Destler and had all those little luxuries Christine had dreamed of. A towel warmer and a walk in closet and cooler just for his white wines. The red wines he stored in a separate place. This kind of wealth was what Christine imagined as a girl, had given up on in college, and was now in at least once a week. 

Now was not the time to consider finances. Not with a warm down over her shoulders and a gorgeous man asking if she wanted help getting into her pajamas. Not with Erik Destler right here. 

“How are you perfect?” she whispered as he grabbed her overnight bag. The towel tied around his waist was perhaps unnecessary considering they were alone and often naked together. 

Erik turned to her, holding up her bag. “I’m not,” he said. “I’m very much not perfect.”

“But you are.You are quite literally the man of my dreams.”

He pulled out the pajamas she had brought and set down the bag. Wordlessly, he helped her dress. Panties first, then the soft pajama pants. 

“I’m not an angel, Christine,” he finally said. “I’m still a man. I make mistakes. I’m not perfect.” His eyes were looking up at her, wide and pleading. Yet again she was struck by just how beautiful he was. Those dark curls, those golden hazel eyes, and his lips were so pink and kissable. Without much of a thought she leaned down to press her lips to his. Erik tasted sweet. Like clementines and wishes. 

“You are to me, Erik. That’s all that matters,” she whispered. The fact she could manage such a cohesive sentence now shocked her. Cohesive sentences after that floaty space were few and far between. 

With a tiny sigh, Erik nodded. “I can only hope to live up to your expectations.”

He stood again after helping her with the shirt, careful not to ruin her bun. “I’ll be right back,” he said once he was dressed. Gray sweatpants and a dark blue long sleeve shirt. Despite how understated it was, Christine found herself distracted by it. 

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Laundry room. I need to move a load over.” She gave a nod and watched him leave.

Not content to just sit and wait, she got up and explored. His room was rather familiar now, though his closet was new. The door was slightly ajar, so she simply pushed in. The closet was more of a room than a closet. A lounge sat in the center under a chandelier, custom shelves and hangers lined the wall. Christine walked through. Jeans, dress pants, sweaters, dress shirts, and everything else he’d ever need hung there. Many beautiful suits, pressed and hanging perfectly. An array of ties and other accessories, all arranged by color. The smell of leather permeated the air. Old and masculine and familiar. Like her father’s violin case. 

Then there was something just odd. It sat on a shelf, a sole item out of place in such luxury. Christine picked it up, examining it in the light.

A white half mask. Velvet lined inside as if to ensure there was no rubbing.

She quickly placed it back, an uneasy feeling settling into her stomach. She wasn’t supposed to have seen that. That much she knew. Erik came in just as Christine sat back on the bed, pale as the linen sheets under her. 

“What’s wrong? You look spooked?” he said, setting down a laundry basket beside the door. 

Christine gave a nonchalant shrug. “Just… tired from it all,” she said. 

He smiled, gave a nod and got into the bed, opening his arms to her. She laid down against his chest, content to be close to him once more. His fingers danced over her cheek bones, and he smiled down at her as though she were the sun. Though the scar on his jaw was far more interesting now, catching her eye as it caught the light. 

One day.

She would ask one day. 

She only hoped he would tell her the truth.

  
  



End file.
